I’m knocking on heaven’s door
My knees and knuckles are spent
Did He bid me come and I heard not?
Or am I knocks deafening to me?
I have heard of the golden censers
With which the tears are stored
I wish mine will be collected too,
Maybe my prayers would be answered
But until then,
I’ll keep on knocking on heaven’s door
Till my soul finds repose
In the Saviour’s love and embrace…

(c) Chukwudi I.