The blackened mist appears now and again,
Like a wispy shadow figure rising up
From the damp floor of the lions den;
It suffocates those that breathe it.
It fills the Sky with an evil gloom
Upon its release from pride's abode,
Impregnating the world as a womb
From which blackened curses are born
The innocent are killed and laid waste,
While those on top seeth in their pride
And find more victims to boil into paste;
Where will this hate find its needed end?
While no darkness can withstand the light,
It takes more than a candle to break through
And more than one flame to win the fight;
But each candle's lost before more can amass.
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: April 12th, 2017 00:57
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 43
Offline)
Comments2
Pride certainly wreaks havoc and thanks for this needed reminder. Good read.
Thank you! Much appreciated!!!
Well written and expressed Great write
Thank you so much!
Welcome
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