Hunger tore through my frail, weak frame,
Life and death seemed the same.
The clouds hung dark, with violent cries,
Death walked near, the end was nigh.
Mother was gone, and Father lay ill,
His fading breath made time stand still.
“Survive, my child,” he whispered low,
Then silence fell, his soul let go.
Hunger consumed me, my mind turned wild,
The corpse before me, my thoughts defiled.
A Knife in my hand, I stood in despair,
But the body was gone—was it still there?
A man appeared with bread and wine,
I ate it all and felt divine.
“Ann,” he said, “you ate my flesh,
Not your father’s; your soul is refreshed.”
“I am Yeshua, the life you need,
Come to me, and you’ll be freed.”
The clouds dispersed, the cries grew still,
My heart found peace, my soul did heal.
The image used is mine.