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  • Writer's pictureMike E.

The Ache-A Poem

This image © bestartstudios 2013--Jaime Best

**Dedicated to all trauma survivors--The Fellowship of the Betrayed

An ache. An ache. A ravenous thirst,

that shatters the soul and births the worst.

Never relief from the mournful hue,

that yearns so earnestly for You.

So far He is and does remain,

Hidden behind the window pane.

With His reward held in its place,

One Day to see Him face to Face.

Sadness grips my weary heart,

and tears my restless mind apart.

When I consider the tale so cruel,

That I have become but a fool,

Who will see and hear and read and follow

Always put off until tomorrow.

But will tomorrow ever come?

Who is this One who shines like the sun?

And brings His warmth to everyone?

Lowly and gentle, exalted monarch.

Heart of a servant, song of a skylark.

He is her and she is me, and we are His so let us be.

We belong to Him, you see. Stop hurting Him and stop hurting me.

All He has are lovely.

I cannot attain His loveliness,

And put my wounded heart to rest.

He always finds me fleeing,

And comes to fetch my tortured being.

Sears me with a burning feeling.

Calls to me when I’m alone,

And plays for me the saddest song.

About a man who loved and suffered.

I could not, would not, let it go.

I had to learn, I had to know.

Why did the love Man suffer so?

Love made Him suffer; Love so divine.

Love so pure. Love so fine.

Love brings suffering.

I will suffer too.

I’ll suffer right along with you.

Until that Day, face to Face, I lay it down by His good grace.

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