The Prayer

I'm too religious -- four years ago.

Those were the years that you're just a fading image on the moon.

Every night before hitting the sack, I'll pray to my God,
That someday I'll find the man I'll love for the rest of my life--
That man in my nightmares who came to rescue me
when troubles come;
whose face I have never seen
'cause, Lord, he was just part of my dream.

Now, I'm less spiritually-inclined.

Four hard years had passed
and I still dream of that faceless man.
And all the same, I never cease to pray for him.
That one day while walking on this unpaved earth,
I'll meet him, somewhere on the street.

And man! My God is so true to me.
I met him sometime in my journey and I'm glad.
Words can't fathom the joy in my heart.
He was and he is, the man I truly wish.
But God, the 64-dollar worth question is:
"Would he be mine?"

Back in my old self,
I'm here again: both hands clasp,
eyes closed, sincerely prays
that almost same prayer back to the good old days--
"Lord, thy will be done.
I have prayed for him quite a long time
and now, I have met him along the way.
I came to know him, introduced my self,
stalked him in ways not too obvious,
and texted him whenever I could.
But that wasn't enough [according to my heart].
Can I have my wish granted?
Thank you, Lord. Amen"

-----
Merdolyn
10/10/11