A question begs and haunts my prayer.
It comes with anger and despair,
it simply asks 'Lord, are you there? '
Oh, guilt descends and adds to care
so painful is this doubt to bear.
A question begs and haunts my prayer.
The head just knows so calm and clear
but it’s the soul that longs to hear.
It simply asks 'Lord, are you there? '
I hate to query, will I dare?
The burn to know will quickly sear.
A question begs and haunts my prayer
Ashamed, my faith a disguise wears,
outside so sure, inside, in here,
it simply asks 'Lord, are you there? '
O’er wrought and hurt, I am laid bare.
Alone I pour a bitter tear.
A question begs and haunts my prayer,
it simply asks 'Lord, are you there? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem