My eyes are closed for woe is me,
Life has stolen my liberty,
My body broken, my spirit lost,
Directions home seem windward tossed.
Eyes colored yellow from what I’ve seen,
Rimose skin from forward lean,
Broken promises strewn afar,
A sky of storm, no moon or star.
Searing sun with burning beams,
Like starting the day without dreams,
Fighting back, I struggle to stand,
Bruised and red, blood covered hands.
But fortunes turn on simple prayer,
Oh heart please bring my faith to bare,
The stasis of my soul dispels,
A story with hope to Peter tell.
I will win this day and each day on,
As a cutting ship from harbor gone,
With courage sails the seven seas,
No longer woeful me to be.
January 18, 2022.
Ronald Whetsell's Creative Writing and Poetry Blog 