~o~ At the sacred oak of Mamre, The sunset’s red and gold The glowing ball having burned brightly Takes its break ‘til tomorrow Underneath these consecrated trees I wait For the answers to come to me They had promised they would be here And in the harsh cold, my wishes, still pending The footsteps passing by are countless, And as the orange skies turn dark, Stranger’s eyes give a pitiful glare, They know how long I have been sat here As three men walk towards me I raise red hollow eyes to receive them Their gaze so engaging, Like spears, piercing my heavy heart Pass me not O’ gentle Saviour Hear the weeping of my silent heart For now words have failed me But tears hardly ever, each drop, deafeningly speaking ten One takes my calloused hands, resting it in his “Your time is not now” His glowing eyes do speak "But it comes soon, you are a seed on fertile ground" Once, on my long road to Damascus, I had received a revelation, My life had been given purpose My days to be ...
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