As the wind howls it's mournful tale
my emotions want to sail over the
waves of a stormy sea to where my
happiness may be
The torrential rains are saturating
my senses, while my nerves are
intense, from the clamor of inner
turmoil, because I can do naught
but spoil...
The engine driving me is cruel
always striving to excel and not
be fool, for the worldly goods
that have no meaning, to the truth
I'm always leaning...
In this tempest that is blowing here
if ones not careful will despair, for
the atmosphere of war, is cropping
up at every door, just the same as
that in the hearts core...
Fighting the internal battle, when all
around the windows rattle, with the
outer forces that you cannot control
with both of them after the same
soul...
~etw~
Hugs and love
from
Kay
Ron
The poem made me think of Reepicheep, in The Dawn Treader.
The internal war can be more exasperating than any external war.
Keep the bouncy faith, Tiggs xx
Lots of Hugs! Jasmin Horst
This is wonderful poetry unleashed :)
Blessings,
Christine
PS: Glad you're back; it's your turn to watch that old Jersey Devil.
Regis
that challenges me with its honesty,
with its depth and personal intimacy.
John
Take care,
Sherry
Love,
Sage
Fighting the internal battle, when all
around the windows rattle, with the
outer forces that you cannot control
with both of them after the same
soul...