It wasn’t real, that connection you held up like something rare. It was only your restless emptiness reaching outward, never inward where truth lived. There was something in you, a rare kind of wrongness, not loud, but steady, growing in the quiet corners You refused to clean. Your habits sank deep, roots of neglect and excuse, feeding on your comfort, tightening around any chance of becoming better. Inside your chest, something lingered, not wounded, but slowly rotting from everything you chose not to face. Your words carried weight, but not wisdom, dirty with judgment, falling on others as if they owed you effort You would never give yourself. You dreamed wildly, expected greatly, Yet moved nowhere. Laziness sat in you like spring, fresh, alive, growing stronger each day You chose not to change. And so you became a tree, Not shaped by storms, but by stillness. Not broken, but unused. A tree that stands alone, roots deep in wasted time, branches stretched with empty wants, leaves gree...
I live in turmoil, Lord, a restless storm within my chest. The night stretches long and heavy, and hope grows thin like the last candle flickering in the wind. I cry in silence, for the world does not hear the quiet breaking of a soul. My tears fall softly in the dark, each one a prayer too weary to speak aloud. Oh Lord, remember me. My days are numbered like fading echoes, like footprints washed away by the tide. Time moves quickly through my hands, And I stand unsure of where tomorrow leads. I have nowhere to run, no refuge built by human hands. The roads I follow circle back to sorrow, and the doors I knock on remain closed to my trembling heart. Save me, Lord. Remember me when I am lost in shadow. Hear my prayer rising from the depths where words become whispers and whispers become faith. For I am also Your child, though broken and weary. The breath within me still carries Your name even when my strength fades. Lord, let Your mercy live within me. Let it move through my being like ...