Eyes and heart fixed firm,
on the future\'s bright horizon,
I stride forth with faith,
in God\'s divine grace,
burdened not beyond my strength.
I walk these cracked sidewalks,
past the broken bottles,
the half-smoked cigarettes,
the lost souls hunched over bar stools,
searching for something more.
Faith is a strange thing,
like an old coat you find in the back of your closet,
just when you need it most,
it wraps around you,
keeps out the cold.
I keep moving,
one step at a time,
trusting in something bigger,
something unseen,
knowing that the weight I carry,
won\'t break me.
I walk the streets, a man among ruins,
where dreams fall like autumn leaves,
and the wind whispers secrets,
to those who dare to listen.
I see the faces of the broken,
the weary, the hopeless,
and I wonder if they too
know of that coat, that grace.
The streetlights flicker,
casting long shadows on the walls,
where men drown their sorrows,
in cheap whiskey and broken promises.
I sit among them, a silent witness,
to their stories, their pain,
and I lift my glass in silent prayer.
And in the quiet moments,
when the night is still,
and the city sleeps,
I feel it,
that divine grace,
lifting me,
pushing me forward,
reminding me,
I\'m not alone.
There’s a kind of beauty in the despair,
in the way the moonlight hits the alleyways,
and the stray dogs howl at the stars.
I find solace in the solitude,
in the understanding that even in darkness,
there’s a glimmer of light,
a spark of hope.
I walk the path laid before me,
with faith as my guide,
knowing that each step
brings me closer,
to the horizon I seek,
to the mercy I need.
Eyes and heart fixed firm,
on the future\'s bright horizon,
I stride forth with faith,
in God\'s divine grace,
burdened not beyond my strength.
The city may be broken,
its people lost and wandering,
but I walk among them with purpose,
with a heart that believes,
that in every crack, every shadow,
there lies a promise,
of something more,
something holy,
something real.
And in those moments of clarity,
when the dawn breaks,
and the first light of day,
touches the world,
I know that grace is not just a word,
but a truth,
a promise,
that carries me through.
Richard Gordon Zyne
061024