The Shepherd

The tears I hear are calling
At the heart of my door
And the trumpets of the Lord
Are blaring evermore.

You told me once that you're so ashamed
That the world was laughing still
But the world knows not whom to blame
For its sins upon the hill

I'll draw my cloak about you
And hide you from the world
You'll see naught but darkness
And the comfort of my warmth

For you are so precious to me
And you are like a sea
And the sun whose rays scorch you
Will be hidden so by me

So don't hurt any longer
For I'll be your loving shepherd
The wolves will never find you
And you'll never want for fear

This is a response to the poem 'Sorry.' The author will understand.