Friday, July 20, 2012

Lost Light

As I sing the praise, they scorn me;
"She's quite mad," they say.
They seem to have souls that are
Eating them with jealousy.


I held my song until I burst;
My soul was completely broken.
They hated me in my brokenness,
As if my sadness was also a sin.


I cried out, "I love you."
They answered, "We don't want your love."
You have none of the saving grace
From our god above.


You may be our servant girl;
You will never rise in your station.
You were born to this fate;
It is your earthly obligation.


They used to let me listen
As they discussed their important work,
But they turned me away
When my questions began to perk.

You are not meant to think;
You were made to serve and entertain.
I am still eternally grateful
For the insights I have gained.

But no one wants to hear
The words of a sinful slave.
I continue to write them for myself,
So I'll not take them to my grave.