We live in space, below space
With no warmth nor cold, just faces
Loose and falling with no braces
With so much impacts to brace
Empty and hollow is our brace
Body and spirit crippled and crazed
By floating bodies in space with no faces
Leaving us only dazed
I watch the moon every night
Hoping that hope would radiate on my plight
And soften my fight from its height
But it just moves in the skies from site to site
I try to look at the sun
Not for fun, but to melt my urn
And spread my sorrows on the lawn
But it just heats up the urn and burns
Cons everywhere, with masked faces
Raising hands and causing fazes
Blurring our already blurred gazes
Making our paths more hazy
On the other side of the lawn
Dwells the a fine bawn
Where the Master burns
Our sorrows till He’s is done
Lord, peace is all I seek
That it may fill this hollow to its peak
And evaporate my oozing reek
Peace not pieces, Lord I earnestly seek
Poem is imagination,
Poem poetry the beauty of nature.
It reveal God’s artistic mind of the universe.
People like you are put in the moon to continue painting it beauty.
Nice work MFON