There was once a prisoner of war
taken far into the desert.
Ravaged, plundered,
choked near to death.
Clothes torn, left to die.
Sun baking her exposed skin.
Lips blistering from thirst and heat.
She crawled.
She crawled in search of water.
She crawled in search of shelter.
She crawled
even though she burned alive in the sun.
She crawled
until her only breath was sand.
The grace here was her bleeding lungs,
shredded by grains of broken things
whittled down by time,
drowned her from the inside.
She crawled until she couldn’t
and everything stopped.
There comes a point
with enough strain
and enough pain,
when one no longer possesses
even the strength it takes
to cry.
But then, the mercy of the Lord.
© Season Naify, 2025
Author’s Note: Here is another lament found in a notebook of mine from last year. For the sake of honesty and authenticity, and even vulnerability on the Christan path, I added a new category on this website. Laments will be featured here, in addition to praise and other poems, prayers, and contemplations related to experiences walking The Way.


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