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
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Author:
I (
Offline) - Published: October 30th, 2015 05:16
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 31
- User favorite of this poem: Bruce Rain.
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Comments1
Great work!!
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