poem:lay of life

Lay Of Life

I choose a life for my own

I find it is waste like painting sine canvass

Misguided like a sightless eyes

I find my own thirsty for The Truth

My soul is poor, strength less oh my Lord

I presume a right way for my own

Finding it is frangible like every leaves in Autumn

Wobbly as a young branch trees

I find my own useless

My soul is hollow, raise me oh my Lord

I call You, Lord..oh my Mighty Lord

Where is my destiny?

Where must I go?

Hold me tight Oh You my Faithful Guide

I call You, Lord..oh my Mighty Lord

My soul is barren, I need Your Truth