My soul longs for it's emptiness, to be alone, drained of
everything, to be filled with the personal knowledge of
God.
Forever reading lines of undivided happiness in extremes
of life and back towards it's center.
Aisles of eons contribute their parts, combining everything
in a pyre of flame, smoking it's way to heaven in the palms
of angel's hands.
At long last allowing my soul the peace it craves, to be
alone and empty, awaiting the mercy of God, hoping He will
look with favor upon my furrowed brow.
Fighting the worry and stress on earth, alone at last with
His glory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem