Night after night
The poet lies
Awake
Stressed.
Aching with this pain,
Depressed in his
Waiting
For redemption,
To escape this sense of dereliction,
The world has cast.
.
Night after night,
The world lies
Quiet.
Resting.
Right with his faith,
With his blessings,
Asking nothing,
For he has everything
The world could offer.
- A Jacob Harrington Original
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