New, every morningA Poem by SleeplessVolcanoYou have afflicted me With grief I deserve Dip my soul Into rivers of grace Lead me Through the fires that may come Burn away That which is not from heaven So that all that remains In my wayward heart Will be a compass needle Guiding me through These swamps of despair Until that day comes When I can also see That your grace Is new, every morning. © 2018 SleeplessVolcanoAuthor's Note
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Added on April 30, 2018 Last Updated on April 30, 2018 Author
SleeplessVolcanoAbout"In the end there doesn't have to be anyone who understands you. There just has to be someone who wants to". Robert Brault Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. ~ Pablo Pica.. more..Writing
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