Faith crisis poetry


  1. My shuffled gait, my outstretched arms, I wander, search for brains;
  2. Perhaps a heart, or maybe faith, an answer to obtain.
  3. So aimlessly and hopelessly, my feet inch ever on
  4. To dimming sights and fading goals, my former life near gone.
  5. An echo faint deep in my ear, just ash in my cold breast,
  6. Just butterflies within my gut, no hands upon my crest.
  7. My eyes are glazed, my tongue is parched, my fingers feel no more.
  8. No smells, no taste, no sight, nor sounds, just hunger in my core.
  9. And joy, and peace, and love, and hope replaced by hunger’s growl,
  10. And, too, an overburdened yoke and brokenhearted howl.
  11. Satiation is my life in famine stricken land;
  12. Squeezing water from a stone, refreshment from the sand.

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By Kim Siever

Kim Siever is an independent queer journalist based in Lethbridge, Alberta. He writes daily news articles, focusing on politics and labour.

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