nathan lyle

A Prayer

November 18th, 1992

Never any guarantees,
save the destination of my path.
Gone from the world it seems,
the gentle, careless, care-free laugh.
Hear me Father, please.
Answer the lamentations of my heart.
I'm feeling the enemy squeeze,
He wants to pull you and I apart.
Is there something I should see?
Are you saying something I can't hear?
What do you want of me?
Please don't let me feel like I'm talking to a mirror.
Only one free ride?
You became my mistakes and hung on a cross?
It was for ME you died?
I know, but sometimes I feel lost.
Father, reassure me.
Touch my shivering spirit with your hand.
I know the answer is plain to see,
please help me to understand.