the moon is up holding a sickle
my spirit is calm waging a war
the battle seems fierce cause this shell
pleads for peace, a dew to wash
all the pain, scorch and burns
the healing is slow, but nothing seems
to change
not in a while will the suffering persist
not in a time will it insist otherwise
for now it is dark, surely the sun will smile again
then a believer will be born to shine... I believe!!!
©excellency
E