Solace after Job
My family gunned down—maniacal spree;
My house blazes to ash before my eyes;
Psoriasis erupts repulsively.
Why was I born? I am a refugee.
This is my life—but I hear no reply.
Am I condemned by the Almighty?
My cry is bitter. Heaven shuns my plea.
My spirit hemorrhages groans and sighs.
Have I gone wrong and acted faithlessly?
My friends tell me, “You blame the Almighty
Who corrects those He loves, to purify
And turn their lives to Him wholeheartedly.”
He took my home, my health, my family?
No—even those faithful suffer and die,
Victims of hate, cruel storms, malady.
I can’t bind the chains of the Pleiades
Or justify why life does crucify.
Millions and millions cry with heartbreaking pleas.
I cling to Almighty’s love on Calvary.