The Gift

I'm not sure if I'm satisfied with this draft yet. I think its lacking something, but I need to let it soak into me for a while before I'm sure what exactly is bothering me. Anyway, here it is:

I met Sorrow
As She came along the narrow, twisted path,
Arms wide, waiting to receive me.
Her hands gripped me,
Forced me headlong
Down the path I didn’t want to go.
I closed my eyes
And ran, ran from the horror
Of cold reality.
From the misery of facing
The long, hard road
With Sorrow alone my guide.

I met Joy when she fell in step beside me
And grasped my bruised and gritty hand.
She too gripped me,
Led me down the path
I could not bear to see.
In vain I struggled to be free
Of this strange twin
To my own grief,
This apparition whose,
Raw strength was forever coupled
With my breaking.

Gifted as I was with Sorrow and with Joy,
A bitter blessing
To have been bequeathed,
A double vision I beheld-
I saw such Glory -new to me,
And Beauty -to my soul revealed.
And last, I came upon a Friend-
Pierced with both my blessings-
Whose face was Gift enough for me
And his Peace, beyond all telling.