Mute

A soft broken whisper,
Too fragile for ears,
Is mournfuly weeping,
"God, why aren't you near?

Life is too great,
My soul; born too weak,
And all of these upward prayers,
Go unheard, as I speak.

I'm fading away,
Into nothing I fear...
Lord where are you now?
Why can't you hear?

Your is child broken,
These pleas go unheard.
And I fear you can't hear me;
Just lips, muting words."