When I feel alone,
And all I hear
Is the wind snickering,
And all I see
Is a mountain of dust;
When all I feel
Is this cold, cold world
And all I smell
Is the stench of despair,
Then I see You,
Smiling at me,
And I feel You,
Holding me tight,
As You tell me,
‘I am with you.’
I smile as I smell
The sweet perfume
Of Your grace…

(c) Chukwudi I.