TREMBLING HANDS

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With trembling hands
I take the red soil from the spade
Fingers part
Down the soil goes into your final resting place
Wind blows softly
As if mourning you too
Leaves tremble on the trees
As if singing your last song
Even the shadow on the ground
Bows in solemn silence
Dust you came
And dust you return
Those words are too final
My heart sinks as earth covers your grave
My soul dies as the red soil fills your grave
My mind spirals as small stones hit your wooden home
I have to say goodbye
Yet my whole being will not
Trembling fingers
Quivering lips
Breaking heart
The final batch of soil covers you forever
From my arms you have left
From my heart you remain a Tremble

GOD FILTER MY THOUGHTS 3

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Oh Lord filter my thoughts
Loneliness is eating at me
I want to scream
This sense of loss
Created by his passing
It’s making me insane
All I think are
Regrets
Guilt
Denials
I have so much unforgiveness
Inside my heart
I wonder
Should I
Have done more
Done less
Hoped often
Prayed even more
Answers I seek
With no questions to ask myself
Filter my thoughts