Poetry By, J. M. Lilin
There is crowds, roaring with different emotions and opinions.
They give off their scripts until she is deaf, they go on until there is nothing left to come clean of.
They have spoken it all out in confession, chatter, and gossip until they felt those mortifications.
Then she stands in between them all and does not dare to meet their survey of discontent.
She was the only one who had not said anything, and everyone knew this was authenticity.
The crowd began to walk forward, connecting hands and arms, making sure no one was misplaced.
She was in the middle, the center of them all, yet no one’s words reached her ears.
No one took the hand that quivered violently at her side with the claws of fear grasped around her soul.
Alone, alone at last and once was, she still stands in the depth of the crowd, but she is the only one without another.
Sometimes she feels intrepid and she will take an inch forward, but the mob was loathsome, and she would look farther away.
She starts to descend in a backward manner, deaf and on the verge of blindness.
There is stairs and the crowd teams up in groups, going for the others just alike themselves.
The groups do not think to greet, they do not think to see, they do not think to listen, and they do not think to think.
She knew it was just the world, but it still pained her to the point that she could not bear to make it up those steps.
She only stood at the last step, feeling the brush of distant shoulders pressing past her.
She wanted to reach out, she wanted to feel warmth, or hear someone’s voice.
She knew though, that it was not in her to become part of the crowd and she was meant to wait.
She stood firm. She stood still. She stood with a burden of patience.
Then she felt a presence that suffocated her, and she fell to her knees, gasping for breath.
She heard a voice like no other voice she heard before and the warmth that overcame her was like the sun.
She heard the Lord from up above, but she felt Him near as if He never left.
Then she had a sturdiness overcome her soul and she stood like she never fell.
Humble grace had its soft grip around her heart instead of the claws of fear.
She took that strength, she followed His voice, and she turned away from the crowd.
She walked the distance it took, she walked away from those that did not think.
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