The Faithfull

Fearfully I call on Christ to aid me.

Each prayerful syllable

An echoed word resounds

Around the caverns of thought.

Were it not for language

Where do you reside?

I could not call you Lord,

Know name or place in time or space.

Can I know you? What would I see?

If in the void beneath my mind

I could abide

Less tongue to tie or phrase to chain

An image of your kind.

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