Should tedious days mock me to the end,
And mar my future with impoverished strife;
Should leaden burdens cause my back to bend,
And tortured turmoil haunt my every night;
Should darkest hours like a decade be,
And every winter last a thousand years;
Each second be an eon’s agony,
And every moment hold a billion fears—
Should heaven’s brightest orb surcease to shine,
And wretched clouds forever mask the moon,
Should dark despair devour all my time,
And stalk me to the crumbling edge of doom;
I feel that I could bear it if I knew,
That came the morning, I would be with you.

© Loubert S Suddaby.  All Rights Reserved.