Face your makerA Poem by TheSickA poem about wishes, prayers and the journey to intern power...I wish for nothing. But, in color They splash my bones -as flowers, rare Dreaming still, they brim an’ lull’ On lucid thrones -they dare To ‘just’ visage in blameless fleet Or cannon a whisper, upon worlds defeat To fold in cleft -all rooms to bear The dangle of toes, or the pump of hearts air? But, still only echo -polluted, they groan! Falling ill an’ out an’ moral by meat On dancing pavements an’ chalked to the stone Alone they have ridden, yet hopeless they greet So, face your maker. But, in color No labor, fierce angel -for who crowned you so rare? For if you could shake, this world with a wish Who holds the power out there? © 2019 TheSickReviews
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2 Reviews Added on April 2, 2019 Last Updated on April 2, 2019 |