The Valley

I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

       The chain of Satan wrapped ‘round my neck.

             It rubs and chafes and splits my skin,

                     My soul asunder, my heart a wreck.

My tears no longer leave a trail,

       My throat is dry, I cannot wail.

             The flame of hope flickers low within,

                     It gasps for breath in a stone cold jail.

Which path goes up? Which path goes down?

        What road leads in? What road leads out?

               I feel my mind engulfed in sin.

                     “Help!” I scream. “Send aid!” I shout.

Though I travel through the valley of death,

         I fear no evil, screeching breath.

               My soul is Yours, You dwell within.

                      My comfort is Your rod and staff.