My disciples and I, tired and weak
Sit here alone, for them I weep
I asked them to pray to give me strength
For they do not know of all the great lengths
The things I am doing to save their souls
From the fiery depths when the darkness rolls
Rolls over the earth when the end comes
As I think about that I begin to grow numb
Numb just thinking of what I am to do
To do for them, to do for you
I sit here alone as they sleep
Sweating blood, tears rolling down my cheeks
My disciples and I, tired and weak
Sit here alone, for them I weep
Lacey, I have just read all four of your 'The Last Days' poems. I am truly amazed that these poems came from a sixteen year old. They are beautifully written and so insigtful. You are very talented. These are your only poems that I've read, but I expect to read more. Just keep writing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I was in that garden... I'm Absolutely Sure this is how HE felt... Beautiful... Colin J...