Empty like the void
I try to fill but cannot see
A space that grows in my lire
A song I sing in my own hymn
Vain do I seem to be now
But thou knoweth it not to be true
If thee could only say aye
Perhaps my name would be so heard
Fighting myself in hopes and dreams
I try to stand firm but it’s just a wish
Vanity trumpets all its gains on me
Still I pray though vaguely; I pray.
Copyright: Fresh Angle International (www.freshangleng.com)
ISSN 2354 - 4104
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