The Scribe
I roamed the streets in constant fear,
and poured out cries of freatful tears.
I lived my life within a shell,
and walked upon the road to Hell.
I cried in a desperate voice,
"I'm doomed to die by my own choice.
When will this maddness ever quit?
insanity, in satan's pit!"
My weary soul, welcomed death,
pains of insanity in every breathe.
I endured tormenting strife,
that prisoned me, from normal life.
I feared that I would someday make
that journey where evil ones take.
My soul burdened, black with sin,
I'd forced out all the good within.
I knew the battle would soon start
when remorse fell upon my heart,
and only then had I begun
to face the unjust things I'd done.
Suddenly, I fell to my knees
and cried out, "Jesus, save me please!"
I wept 'lone in repenting prayer,
when light shone down upon me there.
I felt a warmth surrounding me
and instantly my sins were freed,
my eyes lifted up in the night
I thanked God for His guiding light.
I felt the joy within my heart,
for life anew I now could start.
and my soul once filled with greed,
had turned to love, God's intercede.
This written drama etched in gold
is re-lived in the scribe I've told,
but the journey thru heaven's veil,
my mortal body can-not tell.
© 1999 by Linda J. Adams
All rights reserved.
Linda's Reflections, My Poetry
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