In the hush before dawn,
When shadows cling to weary hearts,
a voice—raw and trembling—breaks the silence:
“Plead my cause, and deliver me,
quicken me according to Thy word.”
At this ancient crossroads,
where the night’s despair meets the promise of light,
I stand, a wanderer amid uncertainty,
My soul is stripped bare like winter trees,
yearning for the warmth of a new beginning.
In that impassioned plea, a timeless symbol resounds—
a beacon of guidance that sparks fresh beginnings,
Forged in the crucible of life’s relentless trials;
Yet it also reveals a stark emptiness within,
a void that only the revitalizing power of truth can mend.
Beneath a sky heavy with unspoken sorrows,
The crossroads become a threshold,
a luminal space suspended between losing and finding;
The depths of decay murmur their cold refrain,
while a distant, unwavering light beckons me onward.
I am caught between ancient grief
and the tender promise of transformation—
a choice laid bare in each trembling heartbeat,
where the weight of desolation and the stain of despair
dissolve under the call of a renewing hope.
Through tear-blurred eyes, I glimpse the possibility,
a glimmer akin to the first rays of a breaking day—
a spark that transmutes despair into a guiding compass,
leading me toward a new dawn of purpose,
where wisdom births hope and darkness retreats.
In that sacred, solemn moment, I summon courage
to speak my truth into the vast, echoing void:
“Let Thy word resound within me,
transform these hollow depths,
and crown my spirit with the light of renewal.”
So at the crossroads, I stand resolute,
My plea rising like incense into the heavens,
inviting the divine to breathe life into the silence,
to quicken this tired heart once more,
and to lead me from night into an abundant, radiant day.