I awoke to the screams
Sounds of anguish on the street around me
I felt the cries of each tortured soul
As picked my own up from the mire
And I walked
Toward Home
I began to walk
Upon broken and feeble bones
Knowing somehow that even if
I arrived there a dead man
I would arrive at my Home
I continued further
Through the dark and treacherous path
It was in the silence here
That I found terror for all I ever had was gone
But I knew
I was on my way
Home.
Then
Amidst the gravest of my fear
Down came rushing
The healing power of forgiveness
Held in each tear...
And I saw a Light
Upon the the front porch where finally I lay dying and alone...
And I knew Him...I saw Him...
The face of my Savior...
And knew...
I had made my way
Home.

© A.F. Kindred
© A.F. Kindred/Brosha the Skrybe