Clouds by Tommia Wright

Trapped in a room that is neither dark nor light,
A room completely devoid of sound and sight.
Like a stormy sky’s clouds drifting apart,
Describes the status of my heart.
To lose the Word, the Good Shepherd’s love serene;
1984 accusations and more, the Devil is mean.
No hymns to guide, no place to hide;
Every thought questioned, doubted or worse,
While like a sword, sins steadily stab with a curse.
Am I forgotten, forsaken, my prayers not taken?
Oh, blessed Son rise, Son break, Thank you Lord, my soul to take.