e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

Unrest Soul: Stand close

You built Earth below the neat place I call Home
And the hot sun is so cold beneath your throne,

Yet your degree is sub-zero cooler than an ice
I know and I agree; I can’t look at You in the eyes:

But this faith I have; must it always be blind?
…My soul is unrest; and mystery is unkind.

These scattered puzzle; to me is unwind
Human knows; righteousness is hard to find,

Especially when hardship cries and hails
So I humbly plead; Just let me Inhale:

Let me inhale your miraculous Exhale…
Stand close to me, for these enemies are whales.


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