A Poem

What matters anymore?

   You oughtn’t to ask me. 

Is my judgement so poor,

   And my conscience so deplete

   That I’m knocked down to my knees

To beg for something more?

Do I care enough to feel

   Anything? Is my heart so cold?

So cold it feels unreal?

   So chilled it ages old

   For too long left to hold

Alone the things I feel?

Have I so wandered from my call?

Have I so smothered my resolve 

That imminent is the downfall

Of my soul? Completely dissolved

Is the force of my will,

And I falter at walls that until

Now have held me still;

Safely locked behind society,

Safely barred by empty piety

Acted out for mere propriety:

For the sake of nothing more.

And yet that flame, that fire, 

That passion, my deepest desire,

Have I so lightly abandoned heavenly attire

To wear worldly lust and reward?

Have I so slowly let go my sword,

So slowly given up this war

That I never realized I did, indeed?

No, Never. My God delievered me

And ever since have I been free.

Perhaps at times my head has drooped,

My sword my back has slowly stooped,

But now, look on, I shall regroup.

By God’s good grace am I thus far

And God’s good grace, my compass star,

Shall lead me always to my part

And inheritance in him.