The Fallen Poem by SHAI CHERRY
The Fallen
The hands of the wicked
Is like plaque
That tarnishes the core
Of a person's soul
That has no desires for unity
but will seek shelter
To form serenity
That rest inside a secret garden...
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: hope
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4/24/2024 8:53:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
