PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I'll keep my faith

where it belongs:

In a box that I open up every day

to remind myself

that all is not lost.



I've been out of touch,

out of sight,

out of smell,

out of sound

with virgin bells of pearl.

And though I still

cannot hear them,

I'm willing to give them

an earshot.



Yet I will not sacrifice

the melodies spun

from my harp-beat.

As one,

this world will be at odds

with my being,

holding a gun

to my ear,

a blindfold

to my eye:





so that I see

what they're seeing --

   blown chalk dust preachings

   across boards of sincerity.

   wiped off by the Heavens

   with relative ease...



and hear

what they're hearing --

   desoloate whirls

   down the barrel of an empty gun --

   no ammo

   but concealed enough

   to instill fear...





NO.

Such ripples in oceans of truth

by the millions

only look grand from afar.

Up close

you can feel the salt on your pupils

extract the purest tear --

   it will fall to a splash

   and disturbingly crash

   into the ripples of misplaced fears,

   soon crumbled to ash...



Let me,

with Your strength and mine,

not engage in such

sky politics

and treason:



I will come to You

for the right reasons...