In My Darkest Hour

In my darkest hour my thoughts wander, sometimes too far and sometimes just yonder. I find myself in total darkness, without a torch or word of kindness.

Entrapped in space, where sorrow thrives, enduring the pain of a thousand knifes. I feel the tears gather in my eyes, as a hundred questions in my mind arise.

A place beyond, where the forsaken dwell, between the garden of Eden and the gates of hell. Where there is no sound but the sound of silence, or desperate laughter, or cries of violence.

The taste of bitterness ran in my mouth, as my head revolved, from north to south. My heart beat accelerated and exceeded the rate, while on its drums, it violently played.

I hear the queries in the drummers beat, should I advance or should I retreat? My soul is standing on some rocky ridge, do I descend or just cross the bridge?

My thoughts are shattered, for help I call, but my words resonate in a desolate hall. Amidst of worries I seek a light, a sign of hope, or a hand of might.

I have grown weary while strength I assemble, as my feeble hands began to tremble. It could be  light there in the distance, must I bide or seek assistance?

To my Lord I appeal in times of stern, at one’s leisure, good deeds you should earn. My heart is joyful, when dancing to its beat, what tasted bitter, has now turned sweet.