the fallen boy

I know this boy.

His eyes light up with laughter, and he's got the fluffiest black hair. He's around seventeen years old. He can crack a good joke when he wants to.

I know this boy.

He sits in silence, his eyes dead. He's not listening to the laughter of his friends around him. But when they call his name, he hides those dead eyes behind fake happiness.

I know this boy.

He falls asleep during abiding time. His tired soul can't keep up with it. All this pretending is wearing him out. Trying to bring something dead to life by yourself can be exhausting.

He's the fallen boy.

And oh, oh my soul. I love him too deeply. His struggles are mine, though he doesn't know it. His refusal to listen to God cuts me like a knife.

I got deep deep wounds.

Matching my deep love.

I get sick to my stomach thinking about the fallen boy.

Oh, he almost tried. He could have held on. He could have looked up. He could have ignored those lies from the world below.

But no.

He averted his gaze as he fell.

Fell to the lies.

Fell to the broken earth that whispered sweet things. I saw him go. And it hurt. Oh man, did it hurt. I saw his dead eyes turn to his dead soul and he fell to the dead earth.

Come back, I scream. It's not safe there. 

The Fallen Boy doesn't look up. I know he heard me, but he refused to listen. He's lost to the world. 

And I can't help him.

So I back up. I let my tears fall for that fallen boy. Because I have to let him go. I have to let go.

I do.

It cuts deeper than I thought it could. Deep, deep.

"I'll take care of him," Whispers the Lord.

okay. 

thank you. 

it's hard. 

"I know.

But I'll watch over him. I'll stay with him."

i'll be praying for him. it's the only thing i can do. 

"Rest now. Let your weary soul rest in Me."

alright. 

i will.