As man sits and ponders his own life’s work,
there is no one more intriguing than the solemn introvert.
Within his very soul he does deign to search
yet his own thoughts he does unwittingly besmirch.
Man is composed of many things within
Learning how to pray yet still dwelling in sin.
The conscious introvert recognizes his position
and weighs each move carefully before making his decision.
With precision, he moves his life ahead
and with passion, his eyes see naught but red.
Yet when the fire cools and the embers lay in ashes
his life flits before him in a succession of flashes.
What has he completed, who has he understood?
Can he hold onto anything that is good?
Or is he undeserving, and he is quick to agree
that the main purpose of his whole life was to flee.
Away from the troubles, away from the cares
Away from the darkness within his few hairs.
But a greater darkness yet within him resides
as he finds small joy in his former delights.
Reaching deeper, new light he does find
as sudden constraints on his heart does it bind.
The Lord has been faithful, He will be again
Our Teacher, our Savior, our eternal best Friend.
He walks with the lonely, with those who despair
as He crowns the brokenhearted who seek for Him there.
The introvert acknowledges with sorrowful regret
that he only turns to Him whenever he does fret.
He smiles and shakes His head, hearing this many times
Yet little does the introvert know He reads between the lines.
The introvert is anxious to his great Friend still please
and when in His presence, his soul is at ease.
He knows not his calling, but prays to discover
the power within that will help him recover
more brothers and sisters unto the one Body,
praying each day that his work be not shoddy.
A perfect sacrifice, made acceptable to Him
as he sits in his room and composes a hymn.
Not one for the Body, but one for himself
To store with great care within his bookshelf.
A silent song of sorrow saved by Savior secretly,
Starting with the line “O Lord, bring me unto Thee.”
The Lord fulfills his all in all and asks to see his face
And as the introvert does turn, He sweeps him in embrace.
Tears streaming down his guilty face, he whispers in His ear
“How could I forget You my Lord, when You were always dear?
Forgive my every departure and every faithless tear.”
How dear the day that He was found
when all His love did now abound.
With gentle arms and gentler breath, his body did His arms surround.
And so the introvert did weep, and asked the Lord his soul to keep
Waking with Him with each new day and foll’wing Him until he sleep.
How sweet the meekness of the story
How great the shining of His glory
in this poor heart of man.
For he knew not that God did plan
yet in His arms he swiftly ran,
The tale ends well with God’s hand linked
and no longer back to darkness sinked
this poor young heart of mine.