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Howling Words

These sorrows flow and grow slow
Within the thin winds in kind to blow
Waiting ages, this rock sat wailing
Upon failing conscience to sailing

How to bow and sow in a row
These barrow prow below slow
In delight the flight to high light
In plight to fight for the right

It was no prime crime of the time
As this time has no dime to a chime
This last must fast be cast to blast
Into dust this past of lust so vast

Different visions brings divisions
Decision an impression of our missions
Creations bow to massive tribulations
Demonstrations of total destruction

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4/21/2021 12:30:21 PM #