Miracles

A small child, blind from the world of love,
Stands alone. Lost in the darkness of pain.
Shivering within the cold of distrust,
Turning his heart to ice; running through his veins.
He stares into the dark, bleeding in his core,
Feeling unloved, abandoned, neglected, lost.
Unable to remember the life he had before,
His heart--his innocence--taken from the frost.
Withering away, engrossed in the black,
His blindness corrupting every part of his soul.
Praying to find his only way back
To his father's warmth; shelter from the cold.
For the day that he lost his innocence,
He lost guidance from the Father's light,
The evil world sunk him into darkness,
Blinding him from love--taking his sight.
Losing the Father to the black abyss,
He wandered forward on his own free will
From the pureness of love, he brought forth sin
And with each step, his heart grew still.

And the colder it gets, the more he drowns
Deep into the ground, hiding his misery.
His cries consume the dark--become the only sound
A sad love song; a soul's pure symphony.
His lips turn blue, his hands turn cold
As his stubbornness burns deep within
The fire of his anger, once foretold
Slowly freezes as his heart wears thin.
If only, if only this child could know
His despair is not his pain alone.
If only, if only this child could go
Start anew; and come back home.
If only this child could look back and see
The man waiting for him to turn around
Watching his child's innocence turn to be
A cold-hearted soul; a conscience unwound.
And if only this child looked back from this place,
To see all hope, his innocence--is not yet lost
He'd see his Father waiting with a large embrace
His love bringing warmth; shelter from the frost.