Prophet's Well

This is an expansion on an earlier poem I wrote in another post.

Inside this dank and hollow place

A bitter wake of pain doth shift

The mortar of their courage loose

The bricks of every cherished past

Beset by every deaf’ning wind

That whispers failures in their ears

The voice that seemed to speak of grace

Reduced to never speak at all

But still I think, believe, resolve,

Commit to stay, possess my ground

For in this open place of mine,

The frightened shine, adorn and found

The stones, the stones, the stones they hear

Those cold, unfeeling rocks below

Will take the pauper from his fear

And light the craven dark aglow

Broken stones say more than me

They moan in speech that’s slurred;

But read me, take me in your thoughts

And know that I was heard.