The fiery doom of Hell
Doth not excuse
The way I address you
While sitting by the half moon
And gazing a weary sight.
A shadow cast
Upon a darkened grave
Who no one forgave
Not even to save
The soul of a wrongly wandered path.
When life is but drawn
From a cloud of rain
That gives no pain
To those in vain
Awaiting the midnight call.
When darkness prevails
Where all is lost
For the uneven cost
Of a body amongst the moss
Buried by the wild overgrowth.
For the growth of a person
Is not measured in weight
But by the amount they hate
Or heed the call of fate
When the hand of God shall rest upon their shoulder.
YOU ARE READING
Cosmos
PoetryMy third poetry book; inspired by a mixture of love and hate, and developed around the sole basis of the cosmos, which without, we would not exist. *All work is my own*
