Without Your voice
the silence is deafening.
I sit alone in the dark
awaiting the word You bring.

Without Your voice
I am left to hunger and thirst.
With outstretched hand I beg
hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

Without Your voice
I am an empty cracked vessel.
I prepare myself in vain
for the enemy with whom I wrestle.

Without Your voice
incompleteness is the only thing sustained.
Though I rise up with all my might
without Your Spirit I am drained.

Without Your voice
I am left wanton and never fulfilled.
Scattering seed in all directions
they fail to take root in this ground untilled.

Without Your voice
I am indeed without speech.
Deaf, dumb and blind
I stumble for anything within reach.

Without Your voice
I am an instrument left untuned.
Play as I might
what comes forth only festers the wound.

Without Your voice
my heart threatens to fail.
Like a ship stranded in slack wind
Nothing comes fill my sails.

Without Your voice
what am I to do?
For it is your voice that inspires
and my spirits does it renew.

Without Your voice
all is meaningless and futile.
The enemy slips in through the gate
his eyes glazed, his intentions brutal.

Without Your voice
my identity seems uncertain.
I hide in plain sight
afraid of being exposed for what lies behind the curtain.

Without Your voice
hopelessness slowly creeps in.
My paper remains empty.
There is no ink for my pen.