The mind moves mountains.
Poetry in motion proves louder than…
The lies that corrupt our lives.
The stinging songs of society will expire,
Exasperating sighs of the soul will tire,
The truth will triumph no matter the cost,
Before every crown surely comes the cross.
If poetry is the power to end every plight,
I’d gladly say, “This is why I write!”
Before you see through my eyes, walk my line,
Breathe through my lungs and tour my mind.
Travel through my veins, through my very flesh,
You will understand why life is vain, a frail test.
As I’m…
Chased by the many demons in the night,
They compel me to make things right.
The pain in my chest becomes too tight.
And I’m seeing…
Tears that are not my own.
And I finally understand…
That which is sown is grown and eventually mown.
The skill and the will and the futile fights,
To prove the world isn’t black and white.
If poetry is the power to end every plight,
I’d gladly say, “This is why I write!”
Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 11:23 PM UTC
The mind moves mountains.
Poetry in motion proves louder than…
The lies that corrupt our lives.
The stinging songs of society will expire,
Exasperating sighs of the soul will tire,
The truth will triumph no matter the cost,
Before every crown surely comes the cross.
If poetry is the power to end every plight,
I’d gladly say, “This is why I write!”
Before you see through my eyes, walk my line,
Breathe through my lungs and tour my mind.
Travel through my veins, through my very flesh,
You will understand why life is vain, a frail test.
As I’m…
Chased by the many demons in the night,
They compel me to make things right.
The pain in my chest becomes too tight.
And I’m seeing…
Tears that are not my own.
And I finally understand…
That which is sown is grown and eventually mown.
The skill and the will and the futile fights,
To prove the world isn’t black and white.
If poetry is the power to end every plight,
I’d gladly say, “This is why I write!”
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