The Gift Of A Friend Poem by Hibah Shabkhez

Dear Lord, Dear Lord,
Dear Lord, Dear Lord,
Give me a gift,
Give me the gift,
The gift of a friend

Dear Lord, as Thou knowest full well
My soul is full of tears I cannot ease
Dear Lord, Thou that knowest the wail of Hell
Grant it awhile Thy blessed peace!

Dear Lord, put Thou an end to this miserable tale!
Have I a ‘self', a being I may yet mar or make?
Spurred by the frost of a steel-spun heart I rail
Light Thou a tenderer path I still may take!

Dear Lord, tend thine aid in 'scaping this cage!
Break my fetters, cast away of indifference the bar
By giving me just the sorrow and the rage
Of a blighted land ravaged by war!

Dear Lord, I ask not of Thee the loan
Of delirious transports, passion, joy!
I ask naught but a friend of my own
A living heart to learn mine glazed heart by!

Dear Lord, Dear Lord,
Give me this gift,
This gift of tenderness, of amity;
An it please Thee, send it to me
And I shall evermore be dumb - upon my fealty!

Reveal, prithee, a glimmer of the dove
To this mine heart of steel;
Cast this iron into the fire of love
Bring back childhood's warmth and zeal!

I tell Thee all that time has sown
I plead my cruel, barren lot,
A starveling life which has never known
Natural warmth even of the basest sort

Even if it is just to lose it
Even if it is but the bond of ship and scend
Even if I cannot keep so beautiful a rosette
Just once give me a real friend!

Dear Lord, I hope as I could erstwhile never
At the waning grey dusk of my piteous life
I dream again of finding happiness, of fervour
Is it naught but folly, worthy of Death's knife?

For this one last rhyme Thy shield send
Grant me the will to act in another wise
Dear Lord, even to deserts thou dost lend
The rain that makes them blossom ere sunrise.