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The Sorrow of Being Alone

by Linda Jackson  
8/07/2017 / Poetry


The weight of a dream

I woke with crying eyes

The result of sin, someone leaving me

The oppression, wanting to die

then a thought so strange came

As I sat on the side of my bed

A thought of how does one weigh all the sins on my Savior's head

 

The works of the flesh began to cover You

A garment of sin

You became what I had done

Countless others to come

Adultery, a capital "A" to wear

Marriages torn apart by those who don't care

Sexual sin, the pressure on You begins

The list goes on and on

When will the burden end

How heavy are the unclean acts of the fallen

Their evil deeds are desires of their hearts

They increase until shame is gone

Easier to worship and trust in the world they see

This painful load nailed to a tree

The darkness of demons, witchcraft and drugs

A choice to try some or all

Hatred begins, a struggle for control

Envy steps in and relationships fall

A bitter root grows into rage, explosive words and murdering deeds

Self seeking power, screaming greed

Lord, how oppressive the weight on You grew

Sin concentrating at one place in time

No wonder a dark storm gathered around Your cross

You took possession of sin

I hear the rooster crow as I run and hide

More grief as You looked ahead and saw

How Your church entertains angels, seemingly white

How Your children are blinded by satan's light

This weight only my God would bear

Only by You the curtain between us did tear

You felt the filth of my sin and more

As God turned His back, Your heart was torn

 

I thouhgt as I sat on my bed

Feeling the grief of a love gone

Thinking that maybe Lord You hurt

Not because of the thorns on Your head

Or spikes in Your feet and hands

Nor the lashes that cut to the bone

But how sin brings the sorrow of being alone

LJ/17

Galatians 5

 

My name is Linda Jackson. I am a blessed wife, mother and grandmother. I am a Biblical counselor and teacher to women in jail. I also teach kindergarten Sunday school. I enjoy writing, playing in the yard with my plants and doing cross stitch while watching football.

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