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A Chariot

One chariot drives north and another south
With hands of the driving forces, winds of the
Servants, worst of the demons and devils.
It is the murder in their history,
The larceny of feelings and emotions,
And not the appearance of the face
That shows a trait of poor souls.

One chariot dies and another lives
According to the seriousness of the times,
It is not the year or the month
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Friday, June 3, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: charity,evil,good
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COMMENTS
James Mclain 03 June 2016
But the soldier when absent of both... iip Good poem.
0 0 Reply

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