I continue to waste minutes
days…
even years.

Why?
Why do I continue?
And yet here I sit.
Pondering…
More pondering…
Until I’m near to tears.

And all those things ―
the ones the enemy knows
will pierce my heart.

He sends them my way…

Again, why?
Why is this world allowed
to be ruled by such evil?

If I were a god,
I’d do away with all of it.
Does it give pleasure to the almighty,
to see us suffer?

Sharp objects like daggers,
of course they hurt.
But it’s the soft-edged blade,
the one that slips between my ribs,
the one I never even notice
until it’s too late.
This is the enemy’s weapon of choice,
the one that devastates my heart.
And the damage is irreparable.

 

© 2020 Michelle Cook

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Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/people-woman-beauty-floor-model-2589639/