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by Luv
Rated: · Poetry · Spiritual · #1679187
I think all of us at some level believe in more than what we know of. I have to.
I am okay now,
somehow,
while wind and rain,
and loss and pain,
fill the air.
Peddling despair.
I care
not, For what the world provides;
Low tides and land slides,
Crushed pride and flowing eyes.
I despise the lies.
The ground I tread is somehow dry.
Unaffected by seasons, impervious to reason.
It gazes up to sky while trampled by treasons.
There is hope beyond this scene.
What is seen is a dream.
Quiet places beyond thought,
Behind emotions wrought.
Witness strife:
Man seeking wife,
Then falls he to harlotry.
Yet shall it be for him, for me,
A path to something better?
Not based on whether
Goodness rules
Or riches find a debtor,
But grace to fools.
For none are wise
To unseen eyes, that cry
For the burdens we endure.
Trying to be pure, remaining poor.
Awaiting each of us is more!!!
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1679187-More