• esoteric_poems 11w

    Pray, let me find you
    When I’m at my lowest
    When they say you aren’t there
    My world in a tempest

    Cover me in reflection
    When I’m crippled with hate
    With anger or terror
    My heart in debate

    Pick me up now
    My bones have run dry
    I’m tired and need sleep
    The world just goes by

    I know you’re within me
    Within all of them too
    In those seeking deliverance
    Yet we must find you..

    - No atheists in foxholes

    ©esoteric_poems