Confession of the Weary
A secret gnaws, a truth I must confess, A spirit burdened, heavy with distress. The Word neglected, prayer a fading call, Where God would speak, I turn away from all. A shock, perhaps, to those who know my name, Yet truth it is, in this deserted space. Not that I shun communion with the Lord, Nor fail to live as Christ implored, Nor shrink from sharing faith when chance arise, I strive, though flawed, to walk the path of Christ. Then why this void, this desolate neglect? A fear resides, a message I expect. I weary of obedience, voice unheard, A lonely echo, every whispered word. Not from the world, but from the hallowed halls, The Church itself ignores the urgent calls. A truth revealed, of vast and vital weight, Unheeded, lost, a devastating fate. This very thought churns within my soul, A heavy burden taking its cruel toll. My studies, teachings, feel like wasted breath, I seek no pity, but a plea for apathy's death. Is this the bride? The love of Christ, fo...