Battling, To My Fight For A Victory
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Battling, To My Fight For A Victory
Mornings of my storms are coming forth to emerge,
consisting of a sleepy tempest that's sitting lying within.
The storm in its quake I do not trust,
justifying its fury's of these strong emotions,
they will burst.
I ask my Lord, is this what I need to face,
why my Father, is this not easy for me to be set free?
Is rage of historic anger I have again met isn't fair,
for I lived my life in a senselessness of this agony.
Why then can I not just let this go,
is it,
the pride of a man,
with morals of justice that's standing in the way of his defeating?
What's the lesson here I must learn,
with this constant plague that I face,
following me in desperation to be set free,
and I to live again?
This blame of rage,
and all of it that follows along,
how do I forgive me coming at such a cost that I to relive?
This battling with these demons I'm facing to write it down,
clouding my way for they've opened doors of these rivers of my pain.
There's a pouring of the furies that sit at its peak,
hurricanes of insanity to the waking of my world,
I do seek.
Allows the lightning to strike,
sometimes twice even with thrice,
keeps me focused,
balanced,
by the eye of a shining star, victory battled.
Riding at its thunder over the horizon of my day,
with a cause armored,
brings cleansing tropical winds that calm the rage that it’s within.
| Copyright © William Darnell Sr |
| Year Posted 2020 |
Source - PoetrySoup™
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