I have fallen down the mountain a little ways, yet I am standing. 'Though my feet are bruised and broken and my hands are scarred and blistered I will continue to climb. By the grace of God I made it through the valley, and by His grace I will press on. He has carved out this path, and although it is rough and narrow I can still see the Light at the end. With His strength and the help of His hand I will make it to the other side of Jordan, and by His grace I will never give up. May Truth and Charity continue to march on before me. Amen.

The bells are tolling,
but I do not hear their sound.
I am caught up in something
so much more profound.

I see women weeping
with men of solemn face,
but I do not feel as they do,
wrapped in arms of grace.

A whispered silence falls,
like the heads of those that bow,
but oh, if they could only see
the rejoicing around me now!

They would hear a mighty chorus
and the dazzling colors see.
Then they too would rejoice,
for death is only the beginning of eternity.

Author's Note:

Hello my fellow homeschoolers and friends! After a very long unintended hiatus, I have returned to AP! I certainly missed writing for this site and I hope to not spend so much time away from it again! My life has taken quite a few crazy turns in the past few years, but I have also been mightily blessed! I finally graduated from college (again!) and have been working quite a bit. I am sorry to those who had to wait so long for me to post something. I have had a bit of a poetry drought during these past few years, but I hope that is ended now!

i. i get like this when i'm alone, it's just a fact of life
i wanna go back
because we had such better days or perhaps it was the rose-colored glasses
mistaking your carelessness for
"we just aren't there yet"
forgiving time and time again

i want to tell you it's all fine
but it isn't it isn't because when you forgot about me when you didn't care
because everyone tells stories about
bouquets and things of the like
i think we were sorta close once, i'm not sure

What does it mean
To grow in the Lord,
To conform and reform,
To press towards the mark?
What is the high calling?
I feel like I'm falling,
Not able to grasp it,
Asking "Why, what if..."
Unable to rest in,
Grow in, progress in
The knowledge,
The teachings of the Word.
My faith is fleeting;
My trust is so flimsy,
Yet my heart is ready
To say "Here am I!"
I need to run, to kneel
At the cross, and feel
The love that poured down,
To see the crown
Of thorns that pressed

*A/N* Mature thematic content such as mentions of drug use/mental illness.

It smelled like sweat and drugs when he got home. The apartment that he and his mother shared was small and dark. The lamp had fallen over, shards of glass sprinkled across the floor. His mother was passed out in the fetal position on the musty grey couch, fresh needle marks on her right arm, her white shirt stained.

Sunshine
Recalling your face clearly,
Is like sunshine on a cloudy day,
As cliche as it is,
And as silly as it sounds,
For me to feel such a way,
By just imagining your face,
And maybe more...
Like your hands combing through my hair,
And your smile so close to my lips.

Note: I was planning on writing something like this before James started posting his recent posts. I hope it encourages you in your writing!
--------
Fellow writers,

So it's a bit of a late night
And I thought about when we first met
I was scared as could be to talk to you
But it was okay cos you were too

And I had so many big dreams then
About moving to a city and starting my own world
And you had dreams then too
Of meeting up with all your friends

But now my dreams are dashed
And you don't talk to the gang anymore
Because I'm too tired to get out of bed
And you got rid of the bond you had with them