Groping for the paths of death
Seeing Thy outstretched arms I began my journey to Thee through
a turbulent sea.
Not far off I saw a
storm looming in the sky and darkened
clouds hovering neigh; I prayed and renewed my trust in Thee.
A violent storm then rushed along and lightning flashed with thunderous roars and I began to feel frustration and hope engulfed in a fight.
With a weakened resolve I treaded on to Thy mighty abode but now I see a more deadly storm and grim darkness encircling me. My trust is crushed and hope yields to desperate thoughts.
Why are my tracks stony dark and always strewn with thistles?
Am I orphaned with these bruised feet ? No rustling leaf, no nodding bud, no gurgling rill, no music of little birds.
Ferocious beasts encircle me which howl and growl in ghastly air. I limp on without a streak of light. A monstrous storm with horrendous clouds shakes my lowly soul and I grope around for the paths of death.