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Creator divine

Terror rains, volcanos to ash

no sun, no warmth, cold bones

cash cities fall from sky to rubble

big or small theyre all in trouble

popping, screaming, lungs collapsing

no breath just dust

tidle waves beware sunamis out there

land to water inandated not vacated

rivers of blood, all alone, isolated

the flower of birth can now emerge

from the earth, old habits submerged

A butterfly free to cry through the cosmos of time

space is mine with the Creator divine

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Written by
jeffrey-p-mothersill
Canadian
Published
Dec 16, 2011
Lines·Words
13·81
Permission

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