The months of trial are always remembered.
Troops for a battle come out of December.
There's always more that a connection could be.
It never reaches to what it should be.
Evil comes and goodness goes.
Forever, the river of tribulation flows.
Why is it that we look to the stars?
The world after this is too good to be ours.
The hatred we cause is a wolf before dinner.
It bites the hand of an innocent sinner.
The cold, it cuts. A blade to the bone.
A call to the people that still feels alone.
A question she asked goes through a silent world.
This is the call of a small town's girl.
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Author:
Jasmine Swift (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 16th, 2024 09:46
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Jerry Reynolds
Offline)
Comments1
"Evil comes and goodness goes.
Forever, the river of tribulation flows." Love this line.
Thank you.
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