At the Feast

The table's set and round are seats
The food is piled very high
With many spices and special treats
The master bids come nigh.

But do you hear the voice inside?
The one that never lets you sleep?
The one that always whispers harsh,
And always prays your cell to keep?

Do you feel the heavy weight?
And wonder if it goes away?
Will it weigh you down for life,
Until the Lord returns again?

Is there an ache that you would lose?
A hole that leads so deep inside?
Do you think you could come out?
Or must you run away to hide?

When everything pulls you far away
And those you love you leave behind
Do you wonder what is right?
And do you worry that you were blind?

It is hard to trust sometimes
And it is hard to see
And still we will not reach out our hands
It's only me, me, me.

The way to peace is not through will
The way to hope is not through peace
What we want is at our hands
And all we need is at the feast.