There is a weight I carry within,
Gifted by someone I trusted, akin,
A blessing in disguise, yet cursed by divine,
When you touch the river of God's design.

The peace it brings makes the world fade,
Its traps forgotten, in its serenade,
A slave to that divine touch's lust,
Where nothing else matters but that trust.

You were touched by God's hand, they say,
In the most inconvenient of ways,
A warning, a reminder of the hold,
You could have had if obediently told.