Well of Sadness

There is a well of sadness within me

that never seems to dry.

Even though nightly I empty it

with petitions of tears,

the next morning it fills

back to the brim again.

Like the everlasting stream of water,

it seems, except

I wish it were not so.

When will the well close?

When will it finally sleep? I know

not the answer, but I hope –

May the stream of living water come

and flush the sorrow out of the well,

one day. I hope.

That day, I look

with eyes of faith, and

a heart of expectancy.

Meanwhile, I pray, I weep,

I wait.


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