agitation

Tossed and blown about,

To the rhythm of every looming wind of emotions,
Here I stand under the pouring rain.
To wash away some tears shed again,
Cool the erupted emissions of this burning flame,
Flame of vengeance, flame of anger, flame of hatred,
Here I stand on this pilgrim way,
Of royals who smile, upon every stumbling pain,
Of a Saul waiting to be buried in pain,
A heart bruised a prisoner of internal jail,
Fears’ the jail within the pouring rain.
Weeping for a life lost: for justice delayed,
Weep ooh weep for,
Hope bears upon her hands, fete.
Of minds trouped and troubles doubled
Minds meant to make way on a trembling grain
Of sand and dust, to wash by the pouring rain


 by Robie Nson on Monday, May 7, 2012 at 7:02pm ·

© Robins 2012