Stop.
I had to cry out as the lament began.
It stopped.
I had to find what was left in me again.
It’s coming.
A beckoning cry began to say,
I’m lonely,
A little voice quietly starts to pray.

Stop.
That’s where I said it hurts too much to say…
But the flood doesn’t stop once you open the gates,
And the flow comes harder once you start to bay,
And nothing more can make it….stop.