Christians choose to be weird
Painting their lives with Blood
Till living is death
The dying of the night
A hesitant dawn, a tremulous cry
A waking up to breathing
Emptying out alien lungs
To drink down an air so sweet
Made pure by the Blood
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
On being inside time
I lose myself inside today Rattling against walls Smooth unmarked unyeilding With the futility of An unwatched clock Today is much too vas...
-
It must have been love That sort of thing Can't be mistaken For a lesser set of feelings It has a special hat And makes you welcome at p...
-
She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
-
I’m tired I’m tired of my heart giving out Whenever it gives in That things being the same Never makes a difference Of looking forwards to s...
No comments:
Post a Comment