These grasses are wet
Scattered all over, harvest
Our feet are bare, I know, but
Don’t slip.
These times are stones
Our faith is fire-branded, yet when tested with gold,
Alike is not the same
Don’t flip.
If the gourd isn’t of God
Don’t sip
And when the nights nigh dawn
Don’t sleep.
for the sun comes,
for the son comes…
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About Cirphrank
Cirphrank is a pun. Web developer, content writer, 2D minimalist UI, blogger. Breathing poetry.
What makes many mad makes some Philosophers, what makes others sad makes me write. A lover of tech and the arts.
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6 Comments
Ochez
These words are deep
like a missile thrown at the board
And the target scored, triumph is the feel
I know. It got the left of me
I won’t slip
I won’t sleep.
You’re deep Frank! Thanks
Cirphrank
My my, you’re sweet! I’d deep, you’re sweet, this comment has let me with a feel so deeply sweet! Thanks, Chey.
Tega
This reeks of awesomeness
Cirphrank
And so does your comment! #winks Thanks.
habeegurl
Whoa!! Deep!!!!
Cirphrank
Thank you!