The Valley of the Shattered Souls of Men

I walked through the valley of the shattered souls of men
And then I realized I once was one of them
They cried out for mercy, cried out for healing
Moaned in agony and screamed about their feelings
They sat in groups of blame to pass along the pain
And clothed themselves in garments heavy with shame
The entertained depression had lunch with self-hate
Shared secrets with Sir Criticism and all of his mates
They wallowed in self-pity and vowed off victory
Claimed they sought deliverance yet refused to be set free
The irony of the valley lies in it’s midst
A river flowing freely right down the center of it
And all these desperate souls camped along the shore
Never understanding what it was even for
Like the Pool of Siloam, healing ran within the stream
The blood of Christ flows freely seeking to redeem
I walked through the Valley of the Shattered Souls of Men
And realized the message I had to get to them
Healing comes in ways most would never see
Gentle, peaceful streams that pass by quietly.