The
Constant
Is
destiny for scorn or a big yawn?
As the
butterfly flutters its wings
Ramifications
appear on the roundabout or swings
Uncertainty’s
reality and humanity pretends
The
safety barrier against this is love
It
neutralizes the anxiety like peace’s dove
By chance
or design there’re those burdened
Outside
the warmth they’re forged into hardened
Yet, they
long too to not be the unlucky few
They
stare at each other with emotions
Not
knowing how to jump life’s pew
For so
long have they kneeled
In
constant silent communion
The never
ending prayer
This
battered ironclad soul in faith
Mistakes
maybe, but certainty is their prize
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