The Storm Of Fears Poem by lucky brown

The Storm Of Fears



Heavy tornadoes came whirling, mere in my backyard, Where my old cooking faggots lies, clouds swelling like that rotten coffins content, below the sky the moon did hide. In the dead of my night dreams, heavy trumpets sounds wings flapping Angels goldsteps on my old rusted roofs. A gust of winds flapped my wooden ironed wrinkling door and my roof banging its structure, I hide in prayer where my conscience plagued, for my impure sake i judge. A host came no near in fear of rapture, the morrows are the sabbaths to the church, i will battle in prayer for my impurity, but may the sermon beckon me not back to my sinful stare.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
The poem reflects the dilema that i go through about the second coming of christ whenever the storm blew i would picture the way that very day would stand And would judge myself while in fear about my impurity about my sinful life I write this poem to show how one feels when he have a picture of the worlds ending in his or her head and it embodies the backslide notion of a christian either man or a woman but with me hope only comes when i try to pray with the consciousness that God is ever ready to forgive one of his or her sins
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success