I lost you
My dear friend
We grew apart
It was almost my end
You are my comfort in the night
The tissue that wipes my eye
You are the salve to the wounds
That depression cut inside
It assaulted me
Tried to crush my life
There wasn’t a day
When I didn’t feel its knife
We lost so much time
Years of a friendship
The loss is immeasurable
The thought of it makes me sick
But on this day
When we are restored
And the bond we had
Is slowly reforged
I feel a joy
Building deep inside
As an ancient utterance
Stirs back to life
And from this heart
Even greater stories will be told
And more captivating characters
From the clay, I shall mould
God will restore
All that we lost
We will tell our stories
No matter the cost
A Letter To Writing


Leave a comment