Seasons of graceA Poem by SleeplessVolcano"A sonnet, as requested"See, I do make all things new, For all your sins my Son was beaten, Restoring what the locusts have eaten. On your fleece I did send dew, My light yoke, in ounces, but a few - You'd better rest in this troubled season, Thirty coins of silver is treason, In my tower of grace, lets rendezvous. A new heart I need, is my reply, Thirst-quenching water, my soul needs. A heart of stone, now gladly returned - My hopeful head, lifted to the sky, My feet, in fertile soil, touch seeds - A season of growth, now gladly discerned. © 2015 SleeplessVolcanoAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorSleeplessVolcanoAbout"In the end there doesn't have to be anyone who understands you. There just has to be someone who wants to". Robert Brault Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. ~ Pablo Pica.. more..Writing
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