I have met
Light and Love
and though constant companions
they may be
try as I might
I can not seem
to keep fear
from penetrating me
Persistently I pray
that some day
healing will fully come
but alas...
Perhaps
I shall always walk
with crippled gait
scarred by darkness
long ago inflicted
unable
with fists clenched
to purely reflect
Light
and Love
and Truth
Perchance I strive
for too perfect a perfection
yet I am able only to insist
I seek the reasons for my plight
while left to wonder
if I have missed
the mark
my call
that which I was truly purposed for
or
was there never any purpose at all
It seems I feel and write
from both sides of my self
full of faith
yet full of fear
They war it out
and I wait
hoping
that the battles end is near
Truly
I would prefer
to always be
in a place of joy
and possess a faith of certainty
but a vessel can only pour forth
that which it contains
and my two sided self
remains
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