Whispers in the Dark

The darkness clings like a second skin,

A shadow wrapped tight around my soul.

It tells me I am nothing, only broken,

A sinner who stumbles, who falls once more.

I whisper sorry into the empty night,

Yet I trip again, knees to the floor.

I doubt, I question—how can You be real

When my eyes have never seen Your face?

The pain I’ve carried since I was small,

The childhood stolen, the innocence lost,

Was never Yours to give nor take,

Yet they ask me, What kind of God allows this?

And I have wondered, I have wept,

But I know the truth—You did not wield

The hands that hurt, the words that cut.

It was not You who turned my joy to dust.

Still, as I learn the weight of Your love,

I tremble, for I cannot understand—

How can something so pure, so vast,

Find worth in a girl like me?

Yet every time the darkness calls,

I remember the light that held me close.

Even when I could not see,

You were there—you never left.

So tonight, though shadows whisper lies,

I’ll whisper back a quiet thank You.

For even in the deepest dark,

You have always been my light.