Change
But fortresses remained, Bastions of oldness, upholders of the good days. Rays of sunlight seldom penetrated through Rose colored windows, coloring with blood. Within the hallowed walls stood the faithful, Holding onto dusty crowns and worn sashes. Storehouses of linens that could no longer Withstand the brilliance of the sun.
Faith told them to hold back the tides But it was fear that had called their bluff. 'How can we influence what we can't define, Refine and put into a box?' they asked. But it was too late, the sands had spoken. A new voice was heard in the wilderness. Wild, passionate, and new in tone. The stones were praising God!


1 Comment
Reader Comments (1)
please take this as a compliment
this is so good, I had trouble believing it wasn't from some published poet
thanks for posting it