Release Me From This Snare
A snare is a trap that stops progress It drains all hope and keeps the captive enslaved
A snare is a trap that stops progress It drains all hope and keeps the captive enslaved
Not only do they practice, but they encourage Death’s malpractice, on the underage
Relationships are like a cute little apartment suit in Montreal.
A union by design To worship and resign To Him who assigned You to this faithful grind
This is the 8th entry of a 10 parts fantasy series. Emerald: “My love, isn’t this a sentence into loneliness?” Rehema: “What else can we give her, my dear? Akaant has spoken and the signs are clear” Emerald: “As parents, why curse when we should bless?” Rehema: “The gods have spoken! ...Rest.”
The Government serves when the law is king But that can swerve when the people cling
There is a war going on outside A struggle for many lives Many in it have died The congo and night of long knives
Consider this poem as a paragraph taken from a journal in which I am writing down my thoughts on current events.
Stop denying, the earth is dying Stop denying, trees are dying...
I never built sandcastles, but I built a castle A magnificent home filled with memories