Cries From the Closet

Did you hear that sound? The wailing cry? Someone’s shut the door, I wonder why? Do they hide the macabre that is inside, the cries that come from the closet? How long to ignore the lives that are gone. Three decades have past with weapons still drawn. The miracles are crushed from dusk until dawn for the cries that come from the closet. The scalpel is now the guillotine blade. The doctor now laughs at the life that God made. A world now hides behind the lowly drawn shade from the cries that come from the closet.

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3 Responses to “Cries From the Closet”

  1. Dawn & David Says:

    The story’s old
    And has been told
    He knows it all too well.
    The killing, the cutting,
    the dying, the wailing,
    The souls sent off to hell.

    Where’s the love
    from God above
    Which would give us hope today?
    How can we trod
    the sacred sod
    If He’s nothing left today?

    Can the old
    become the new,
    To those who hear today;
    To those who walk,
    and those who talk
    While trying to find a way.

    Are we created,
    or are we belated,
    An accidental universe?
    How far did we fall?
    Can we hear a mute call,
    Living under a curse.

    The sellers sell,
    and talk of hell.
    Then milk is all they give.
    Things are good,
    and made of wood.
    No matter how you live.

    Don’t ask of me
    to comfort you;
    I’m busy with my stuff.
    I gave some coin
    the day I joined.
    That surely is enough.

    But then there’s one
    who’s seen the Son
    With nothing of his to sell.
    And feels the pain
    of our young lame;
    And this he knows so well.

  2. Dawn & David Says:

    Correction:

    Line 12;
    If He’s nothing left to say?

  3. Dawn & David Says:

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