7

I

As the soul transmogrifies

The body follows suit

On bended knee

A twisted tree

Grows not without a root

Avarice and gluttony

Come not without a source

From deep inside

One cannot hide

Not God, but man

Of course

Envy, pride, sloth, lust

Not products of a father

Who leads his children to the stream

But not to drink the water

From time to time 

Although sublime

Man strays from righteous path

A product of iniquity

That in the end is 

WRATH

  • Author: I (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 30th, 2015 05:16
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 31
  • Users favorite of this poem: Bruce Rain
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments1

  • Bruce Rain

    Great work!!



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.