I’m being stripped
of it all.
Everything I thought good
and even worthy.
Gone for now.
40 hours here,
40 hours there…
A cycle I viciously want
to end.
But I can’t.
Neither can they.
I do not control the cycle,
and it feels like death.
I suppose that’s because it is.
Death.
Of Control.
Man’s way.
Even my idea of serving
the High King.
It is not the side of the world.
The people.
The job.
When or how.
It is only Him.
He is it.
One goal.
It’s Him.
When the cycle that I
think is killing me
leads me to the one
who is alive…
I shudder.
‘Why?’ seems insufficient,
even mockery.
Yet it is He who still
answers.
‘For me, my beloved.’