Mom
The fog of spring descends this night
Which clouds our view of wrong and right;
O Lord, I come to You again,
And bid you ease this load of pain.Confused I am on what to do –
Bewildered – You have been there too;
These are Your kids, O Lord, You gave
Them to our care – that you might save –Them from a life known all too well,
As we look ’round this living hell,
All dressed up in its finery –
Deception cloaked so few can see.O Lord, the mist of evening air,
Which mingles with my tears of care,
’Till one can’t tell which source is which,
As mine with Angel tears now mix.I thank You Lord, for fog tonight –
Assurance in the midst of fright,
That in the end prevailing love
Wins out on earth, as up above.navigation