I was in arrant dolor, waiting for a reply-- Waiting for a riposte of any kind; Longing for sustenance, Wishing--praying--for reprieve. I look at those, reveling in happiness; People who seem so blessed; Grass, greener, beneath their dominions; While this, of mine, withered and neglected. Desperate queries, floating--swirling; Swallowing me in utter bereavement. Why--why, oh why, my God? Why, this ferocious cycle of pain? I succumb to the desolate hurt, I feel; Just wanting every ache, annulled. With quivering lips and tearful eyes, I lay. But then, an angel whispers, gently: "God allows us to be deprived--to be emptied--in order, to be filled." #trials #blessings #God #deprivation #yqbaba
