Fill My Soul

Dripping down, I feel my bones

Melting in the blazing heat.

Expectation and judgment closing in.

It is of my own creation.

No one else but me.

It echoes in the chambers

Of my heart.

It rings a hollow noise

Through the rooms of my soul.

My body clings

To what it desires.

My mind is weak

Compared to what it could be.

I yearn for something real,

Something true.

Something to fill

This empty bowl.

Fill my soul, Lord.

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Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger

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