Prophecy
Two years ago
during the summer of sirens and
sweating over Psalms
while crouched beneath the pulse of
a gun
a woman unfamiliar to me
dabbed my face with prayer
steadied the weapon attached to my temple
steadied my hands
looked my fears in the eyes and
commanded them to yield
with the thunder of Jesus
then she cupped my chin and spoke steel
to me and my pet shadows
"Get ready;
you will move very far away
and things are only going to get harder"
I had always been skeptical of
proclaimed prophets and snapping tongues
until my life followed a predicted path.
YOU ARE READING
Paint Us Gray: Part 2
Poetry(This is part 2; please read part 1 first!) Rejection. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Grief. Unfortunately, we've all had a swallow, some more than others, of this bitter brew. This is just a sliver of my chapter that is a part of this world's grand nar...
