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by Clara Mae Gregory

In fleshly occupation
Avarice avails itself
Plundering upon
The poor man's wealth
It's always a broken axle
Impeding a future progression
Chained to its past
That's never going to last
While shrouding memories
In clouds of stealth
But fears are softened
In our sorrows
For those who rejoice
In Shekinah's Glory and Son
Redeeming our lives
And defeating
Death's mission

04/29/2019

Posted on 07/17/2019
Copyright © 2019 Clara Mae Gregory

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 07/19/19 at 08:32 PM

"It's always a broken axle Impeding a future progression Chained to its past" My favorite lines! Quentin would have loved this. I enjoyed it very much.

Posted by Peter Humphreys on 08/08/19 at 06:03 PM

Beautifully written and truth expressed.

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