Well, I would like to present to you my first (of many hopefully, because I love this poetic form) Villanelle. I've grown a general dislike for free form poetry. I have found that I enjoy structure and form, and so, I have learned how to write in the Villanelle form, originally a French and Italian form. Also, for those of you who end up reading this poem, I am indeed a Christian- so I am speaking through the Christian lens here. Enjoy!
The Weight of Silence
The silence of God is overwhelming; deafening.
The weight of the silence can crush, and leave the soul strained.
In moments of utter hopelessness, He stands before me, beckoning.
The will is weak. This darkness in me is enveloping,
My mind, my soul, my heart. These, Satan hopes have gone unclaimed.
The silence of God is overwhelming; deafening.
The days go by, and I plead for life anew. My voice echoes- unending,
Unanswered. But, God speaks in whispers- “You are mine, you are claimed!”
In moments of utter hopelessness, He stands before me, beckoning.
I have given myself to passionate folly; I find His embrace threatening.
My weakness killed Christ; What darkness have I entertained?
The silence of God is overwhelming; deafening.
Razed. Desolate. What have I become? None hear my ceaseless screaming.
I am a slave Lord! Please, I must be unchained!
In moments of utter hopelessness, He stands before me, beckoning.
Life is wasted if you are unquestioning.
Who am I? Where is God? He is here, and I am reclaimed.
The silence of God is overwhelming; deafening.
In moments of utter hopelessness, He stands before me, beckoning.
The Weight of Silence
The silence of God is overwhelming; deafening.
The weight of the silence can crush, and leave the soul strained.
In moments of utter hopelessness, He stands before me, beckoning.
The will is weak. This darkness in me is enveloping,
My mind, my soul, my heart. These, Satan hopes have gone unclaimed.
The silence of God is overwhelming; deafening.
The days go by, and I plead for life anew. My voice echoes- unending,
Unanswered. But, God speaks in whispers- “You are mine, you are claimed!”
In moments of utter hopelessness, He stands before me, beckoning.
I have given myself to passionate folly; I find His embrace threatening.
My weakness killed Christ; What darkness have I entertained?
The silence of God is overwhelming; deafening.
Razed. Desolate. What have I become? None hear my ceaseless screaming.
I am a slave Lord! Please, I must be unchained!
In moments of utter hopelessness, He stands before me, beckoning.
Life is wasted if you are unquestioning.
Who am I? Where is God? He is here, and I am reclaimed.
The silence of God is overwhelming; deafening.
In moments of utter hopelessness, He stands before me, beckoning.