Thick the fog of my transgressions
As I blindly tread life’s way
Searching for a post or anchor
Body weary, tearstained eyes
Each day moves in slow procession
People touch and leave my life
Sunset finds me with one question
Where do I fit in this scheme?
Deep regrets from early childhood
Stumbling into errant ways
When the heavy press of growing
Brought temptations and much pain
Is there hope for my sad journey?
None can answer, though they’ve tried
All I have is one faint prayer
That the Savior will find me
I am like that wretched creature
Reaching out to touch the hem
Of the Master’s healing garment
And break through that fog of sin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'With the heavy press of growing', how descriptive! Wonderful work, Liilia.