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
So that you may learn to love.