future

Day one

Under grey January skies
An orange hued voice rambles
On and on about frivolities,
Spewing its languid hatred
And swaying the masses
Like trees bent under powerful wind
With false promises
Of a better future
Composed of a whimsical greatness
Of which no one can hold
When the truth really looks
Outward with greedy eyes,
Counting its profit, fame, and power.

Advertisement

Joy becomes us

God looked down at me
With tears in his eyes
The ocean in each drop,
That salt burned
The freshly opened wounds
A hole torn through
My chest ripped open
But his tears did cleanse
And in time passed the pain
After 40 days of death
And 40 nights of birth
Broke the sun
From humble clouds
In the shape of your face
The heavens opened
For but a moment
And I saw all of eternity
A vast plain of peace
As clearly as a reflection
I looked at the future
As vision of grace
And joy became us