Mark Edgemon has been writing for 30 years. He writes and publishes short stories, articles, poetry and scripts, as well as, produces audio comedy productions for over 700 radio stations nationwide.
Contact Mark through his website, Creator and the Catalyst.
I've prayed unto myself in a vicious cycle, With no hope of answer, no touch, no word, Save the sound of my own voice...desolate!
I cried with my whole being to find my soul forsaken. It is my desperation...it is my end; today I fall, Wounded from hard fought battles, weakened by fear!
The place of my supplication; a watery grave, Drowning in my tears, my strength has failed. I wait for the enemy to feast on what I once was!
And with all my might, I prostrated myself before God, Now vulnerable and dead to self; the smallest light, The stillest voice, a whispering hope...a chance!
The army of fear, beckoned me to dare and with little remaining, I took a single step...I dared! The demons before my face, knelt. With renewed yet small strength, I took another step, they moved aside!
Warriors summoned, but not by my voice; stood with me, weapons in array. Revenues gathered from impossible sources and then I heard Him whisper. The enemies fell, one after another; clearing my path as I walked!
Once more, I approached my calling, still weak in body, But held up by stronger Hands than mine, I found power, As I walked forward in my death, He conquers through me!
The End
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