not a thought is stirred.
Passing by a myriad of dark wooden shelves, and everything is properly contained.
One foot in the elevator, and it is here, her memories can no longer be restrained.
A chime graces that she has arrived
and it takes everything within her for her emotions to not appear on the outside.
And the tears begin to stand,
heaviness has taken her hand.
She has lost her grip---and now she is clenching fists.
She's barely breathing beneath this darkening mist.
It's the familiar placid walls;
she can barely breathe in these halls.
They speak of pain, days spent begging her grandfather to hold on.
They speak of heartbreaking sights, bidding the children's lives to be awakened to a new dawn.
She knows You will break through.
She knows that her hope is found in You.
Yet, seeing her father lost in brittle sheets;
seems to rob her of her hope-declaring this is too great a feat.
Your little girl, sits off to the side,
looking every which way to find some place, to confide.
The past pain replays and it comes with a quickened clarity.
It is all she can do to reach out blindly, in hopes to see.
To see You, in it all....
even in these painful and these desperate halls.
It was all she could do to remain composed...
to keep Your Word hidden in her heart, present in her mind, to keep it close.
.....it was almost as if she held her breath the entire time
holding everything within, even her mere rhymes.
Nearly running as she left, to find the chill and the sun to greet her;
she caught her breath, and her eyes began to blur...
At the sight of daylight,
to see it rising-above the once, encroaching fright.
And she collapsed into the stillness of Your arms,
ashamed to have let her heart be taken and consumed with such alarm.
Ashamed to have become convinced that there was no way out,
to have been overcome by such doubt.
"You were there.
I was scared.
You were there all along.
That is where I went wrong..."