Seasoned Reason

My might it is not

like you have got.

Our forces fought

in chaos so fraught.

To try stand tall it

is just me teeth grit,

behind chapped lip,

my words but quip.

You were essential,

I strike with pencil,

if need erase insult,

if rancor my result.

Forgive me I’ll fight

with all of my might

for what I feel right

to bring truth light.

Words not seasoned

you brought reason,

in a bitter fed season,

your ways ease them.

I search for the gift,

possessed you shift,

to words that uplift

so to heal every rift.

I follow paths same,

now just me in rain.

Stream of light came

in rays of your name.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Great post 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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