Hunted by the burning flames of doubt,
tossed by the whirl wind of confusion,
seeking for the right place to hangout,
hungry for the light of progression,
hiding in the torment of blackout,
ignorant of the greener pasture possession,
treasures one can't do without,
encouraged by the voice of confession,
driven by the sounds of glorious shout,
clouded by the atmosphere of transfiguration,
led by the confidence to speak out,
rebuking the footsteps of transgression,
holding unto the helmet of truth for workout,
wearing the garment of praise for perfection,
using the sword of the spirit to take out,
all that doubt has in its possession,
I need my faith.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem