Struggle

Three years after the day he was born,
He first felt demons stalking.
Deep scars into his soul they'd torn,
Yet he kept on proudly walking.
The simple living that he made,
Was challenged tough at every turn.
Each raging footstep that he laid,
Felt the touch of hell's harsh burn.
On each anguished road, he stumbled,
Conflict drove him nearly insane.
Every project he took crumbled,
As if he had the mark of Cain.
One day he cried, "Lord, can't you see?
Do you sincerely understand?
Please, listen to my humble plea.
Why do you hold me in such remand?"
The Lord looked down from up above,
Said, "Don't worry, my dear sweet friend.
Know that I'm only moved by love,
The answers you'll know in the end."
Today that man is a learned master,
At the top of God's list, he rates.
Though more than his share of disaster,
The struggle is what made him great.

FOLDER

My Poetry  (E) Come as you are. #2034965 by Rhychus