Posted in POEM

A Means to An End

It hurts my brain,
When I observe,
The dealings of men.
And that our age-old truths,
Aren’t accepted by the world,
Anymore!

How can we be free?
When the liberties they take,
Become our bondage.
It corrupts my flesh and injures my soul.
For it seeks to destroy,
The children of my heart!

I will resist it; I will speak up.
I’m not a Prophet,
But I’m the invoker.
Because I know, that in the end,
The Avenging Angel,
Won’t tolerate it!

Public Domain 2019

Author:

A Poet's Diary - I See Life, Through My Rose Coloured Lenses.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.