A Step Behind

I am worried,
Their the faith in God will fail,
A nation of dried wells.

I am a seeing,
Fleeting stances,
And aimless antics.

I am scared,
That the few will be out-casted,
And thier perseverance eventually outlasted.

I have noticed,
We as a whole are weak,
We are unnecessarily discrete.

I fear,
A nation faithless,
A people tasteless,
A people consumed in their truth,
Letting scorching winds-
Helping them carry weight of sin,
On fragile backs,
Woe, we are weak…detached –
From spirituality…
To adopt…
To accept…
Anything that does not offend,
I fret the end…
Of my family members and friends,
That will not see Valhalla…

I do not want to leave…my dearest…
I cry to carry them eternal!,
To see what I see…beautiful and vernal.
Dear God…


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