Drought

Who am I to turn to?

When the shepherds of this time have shown no compassion and care,

But have sheared my wool for their own comfort.

Who am I to turn to?

I looked for peace, and found none.

I looked for protection, and found none.

So I wander, wander to the pasture in hopes of being called back.

Waiting..waiting,

Only to find myself surrounded by drought.

My pasture has gone dry

And so I wait,

For my pasture to grow green again.