A violent silence in the soul,

ash lines the streets of thought,

vibrant musings reduced to gray,

with no flame to accuse,

left questioning when You will restore.

A shadow cast by a weary heart,

lost whispers echo in an empty hall,

seeking light where darkness clings,

unanswered cries faint with exhaustion,

wary pleading for a still small voice.

A faint glimmer in the deepest night,

hope desires to be stirred as embers,

faint mutterings lift incense at dawn,

tentative trusting in distant renewal,

longing for all to be worked for good.