Alone I walk a world so dead_

Sins atonement forced to be.

Screaming words inside my head_

For torturous company.

Blackened hills to east and west_

Barren landscape all.

Lonely spirit walks abreast_

Waiting for my Master’s call.

No door to open wide upon_

No invitations issued forth.

Weary trudging on and on_

Cold wind blowing from the north.

Desolate peak of mountaintop_

Bones picked clean by buzzard’s gore.

Lonely spirit here must stop_

Above the desert floor.

Curling into fetal shape_

Crying now beneath grey skies.

Ragged clothes around me drape_

No life here abides.

Master, hear my ardent pleas_

Remove me from this morbid place.

I beg for my release_

Have mercy for my lack of faith.

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© 2007 Elizabeth Melton Parsons  

Picture courtesy of Chaos