Cynthia Buhain-baello Poems

Destitute minds are enslaved by desires
Bereft of the noble heights of sense
Predisposed just to give vent to passion's fire
It's a life of mere vacuous existence.
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Our life is short and fleeting
Like little flowers that fade
Fresh blooms at the morning
And at sunset, goodbyes made.
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Sadly diverted from their quest for the truth
Many turn to religion and find a very bitter fruit,
Deception blinds men that makes them fail to see
God forgives the sinner who repents, His grace is free!
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Oh, a profound subject indeed is Death!
It's nagging mystery absorbs the mind.
What will it be like when the time is set-
Will the last breath feel so cruel or kind?
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Breathe life beautiful in the storms,
Winds and rain may test your form
But keep your inner peace within
Though hard times try to hem you in,
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There was a well-known pastor
So effective in ministry
The congregation's favor
Blessed him well materially.
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Vile corruption!
You're so entrenched
In power tendrils
Your tentacles have tied Justice
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What hollow, fickle minds construe
Exposing mental barrenness,
Foolish words never hold true
Such weight in verbose emptiness.
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I do not own the hand
That writes freely your words
Nor will I try to tell you
How and what to write
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When bullets speak
It ushers Silence
As all become weak
End of the sentence.
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