Monday, April 28, 2008

O, poetry.

In waiting, do I purposely occupy my head,
Or I may truly suffer.

Little do I know
His plans are yet to be released

on me.

I refrain from
guesses.
We are fickle,

He had not even spared
His Holy Son.

This reality: captivating.
Amidst the chaos

We can do nothing
but hope.

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