Now falls upon me a great awakening
Every hour ink is spilling from my pen
From feet to earth to heart again
When does aching end?
How do I demand for time to repent?
Give him a moment for light to ascend?
Wipe from my hand all he condemned?
He makes a terrible friend!
Eyes bleeding from all they comprehend
Faces turning from where they have been
Islands growing thinner from terrible sin
I am sick of him!
© Delia Ross. 2021 / @poeeternal
