The heart of warmth or heavy frost,
Brings down the many at what cost.
Until the final bloody beat pretends,
And love or hatred there descends.
At last your breath will thaw the snow,
And winters frozen windy blow,
And devils dance in suede black shoes
When you sit on wood church pews,
Payment whistles and hard men tear,
Their bones at heavens golden stare.
And reap an angel with her voice,
For only she has will of choice.
Her hallow strong yet dimly lit,
Upon my sins she warmly sits.
And watches as my soul to die,
With tears of pouring rain she cries.
Carrying up to whiter skies.
And sit yet not alone to die.
But with the saints and crosses bore,
Whom lost the waters when winter tore.
And drank from flowing streams of glee,
As heaven waits for you and me.
- Author: RSM (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: December 19th, 2024 04:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Comments1
Nicely written tender poem, enjoyed the read, Thank you
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