Day after Days,
Night after Night,

The world moves as I stay still.
Staring at my plain dark bedroom wall.

Mother knocks on my door, but I feel too numb to answer
She cries, but I motionlessly don't answer.

I lie on my bed,
Screaming in my head.

Pain forever with me never leaving.
It goes with me everywhere.

Like my shadow,
Constantly there.

Now my sister turning into darkness.
She will before long be just like her brother.

And mother will soon give in.
The echo of glass breaking,

The sound of my mother screaming,
And me still emotionless as I lay.

The doors are slamming.
More glasses breaking.

And me just falling,
With no delay.

Now the house grows dark.
Only the noise of the wind and the crickets grows.

And for me I have now been swallowed by the darkness.
And all my fears have come true.

Who are you to come to me
as I lay within this pine.
Who are you to shed those tears
to claim that all was fine.

Who are you to call me friend
and say I will be missed.
Who are you to touch my hand
with one as cold and stiff.

Who are you to praise my past,
and steal my life of joy.
Who are you to take this task,
with hopes to fill your void.

Who are you to firm your lies,
with words that condescend.
Who are you to say good-bye,
at my journeys end.

Somewhere, along the line
An abysmal storm-cloud
Drowned, dreams that were mine,
Buried deep, as in a shroud
Obliterating the warm sunshine:
Leaving me in chaos, so profound!

Sweet illusions are no more;
Only stark reality confront,
Portending of the disaster, in store,
Happiness and love play truant-
Reducing life to a futile core,
Bereft of all camouflages, so pliant!

In such a turbulent panorama,
Wherein I have been hurled,
Came the light hopes of a panacea,
To lift me from despair, and unfurled,
Once again, horizons, free of trauma,
My heart sinks again, music purled…

Is this the tryst, I was waiting for?
Is this the consuming love I was dying for…

The Empty Chair

Got this prayer from my friends. I guess, a prayer is a true conversation with God.
Tell me what a prayer means to you ?
A man's daughter had asked the local minister to come and pray with her father. When the minister arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows. An empty chair sat beside his bed. The minister assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. "I guess you were expecting me," he said. "No, who are you?" said the father.
The minister told him his name and then remarked, "I see the empty chair; I figured you knew I was going to show up." "Oh yeah, the chair," said the bed ridden man. "Would you mind closing the door?"
Puzzled, the minister shut the door. "I have never told anyone this, not even my daughter," said the man. "But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it went right over my head."
"I abandoned any attempt at prayer," the old man continued, "until one day about four years ago my best friend said to me, "Johnny, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus.
Here is what I suggest." "Sit down in a chair; place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It's not spooky because he promised, "I'll be with you always." Then just speak to him in the same way you're doing with me right now." "So, I tried it and I've liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I'm careful though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she'd either think I had a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm." The minister was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old man to continue on the journey.
Then he prayed with him, anointed him with oil, and returned to the church.
Two nights later the daughter called to tell the minister that her daddy had died that afternoon.
"Did he die in peace?" he asked. "Yes, when I left the house about two o' clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me he loved me and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead.
"But there was something strange about his death. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on the chair beside the bed.
What do you make of that?"
The minister wiped a tear from his eye and said, "I wish we could all go like that."
Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive. There is no cost but a lot of rewards..