Broken Axle

In fleshly occupation

Avarice avails itself

Plundering upon

The poor man's wealth

It's always a broken axle

Impeding a future progression

Chained to its past

That's never going to last

While shrouding memories

In clouds of stealth

But fears are softened

In our sorrows

For those who rejoice

In Shekinah's Glory and Son

Redeeming our lives

And defeating

Death's mission



Poetry by Clara Mae Gregory The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 11 times
Written on 2026-03-13 at 16:50

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