(This is a special post in light of April being poetry month. FYI, I am not a poet.)

Sitting, hiding in the dark, black corner of the room. The storm of pain rages within and I feel I’ve been deserted. I wonder if I will make it, if there is something to which I can hold on.

This time it feels like life is slipping, washing away.

Then the man stands up and whispers, “Peace.” The word commands stillness for my soul. A beam of hope slices into the dark, black corner and I am reminded you are WITH me.

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