InChristAlone
Learn more about other poetry terms
My friend, to God you are close
You seem so studied
Yet behold what he finds gross
The name of His you’ve muddied
Your works splash again and again
Upon the crowded beach
And I'm lying there on the ground alone
My heart is slowing down
And my blood is growing cold
But then He reaches for me and whispers in my ear
My child. There is nothing to fear.
Am I not the Healer -
