I lie still, willingly mocking the statues of the city

They are unburdened by the desire to breathe

To chill under the cold winter,

Or sweat in a moment of fear

No, they are hushed in a constant wave of surround

While I, though determined at best, shake to the

Flow of blood in my veins

And suddenly I am overwhelmed,

My hands fall to my side and feet bustle with circulation

And I move,

Slow at first than all at once

Like a tide swarming the land in an angry haste

Ready to take on what impedes its’ quest


I have found momentum,

Pitying the poor souls absorbed in the laconic vas

I begin to weep for their saving

For a wave of rain to release their permanency

And to join me in my moment of rejoice

Romans 8:26-27 likewise the spirit helps us in our weakness. for we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. and he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the spirit, because the spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

One thought on “hardened

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