I’m so alone here. I know there are other prisoners. I can hear their voices, but I never see them. The only thing I see are the shadows of the guards, and the light from the sun and moon as they pass over the small window of my cell.
All I can do is pray. Pray and sing in my heart. Never out loud, only in my heart. I sing a song I wrote in my head:
My heart longs for my Father in this prison
Although the road to truth is steep and narrow
A bright future will be revealed when I continue
Without faith, calamity will strike in this road
Allow me to go forth toward the fortress
Although there may be much grief and complications
How could I follow in the footsteps of my God?
With tears my heart longs for my Father in this prison
Father, please accept this sinful daughter
Please protect me in Your mountain fortress and under Your shield
Take me under Your wings of peace
Father’s voice that comes from the sky
Guide me to Your blessings daily
It’s been a year now. I don’t know how long I will survive. One day, they will call me and I won’t move. I will have died in here, in the dark. They will dispose of my body and the first new prisoner who comes in will take my prison clothes and become the new Prisoner 42 and will wear my clothes.
Will they survive this hell?
Will they be bruised in the same places I’m bruised?
Will they cry out to God—the only One who seems to see what’s happening to us in here?
Will they die here, like me?