By Eve Frances Lorgen  

The eternal widow wishes to sleep,

I am but a reproach; my only desire is to weep.

My destiny is to be a vessel of the Lord’s grief,

to impress upon this dark world

how he grieves for his lost sheep.

I was broken before I could even receive love,

damaged beyond repair, paralyzed before I could even move.

Oh how it rips open my wounds!

My soul bleeds with despair –

Lord, let me out,

protect me from their shaming stare.

How I despise the one who hurt me so!

Who stole me from my Beloved!

Turned my life into passionless woe,

Lord, I beg thee to let this cup pass from me…

They don’t know who I am.

My Beloved no longer recognizes me,

an angel in disguise; The darkness can’t see.

I am the grief of Him who sent me…

The lamentation of him who was crucified

for you.

So that you may learn to love.

 

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