Poems ✍️

Inside the womb of an Eastern breeze

Seraphim's fixed in wingless freeze

Watching swords wield, holding their breath

You are Christians they whisper, in Life, in Death

Your souls will bear the mark of Martyr in true

The Sun never sets in the East, nor will you.



FjR-MMXVI

_________Authors Note_________
This poem is a repost.It mysteriously
disappeared, from my active postings,
which leaves me with my semi-educated
guess that unless either David Blaine
or Chris Angel randomly chose my poe-
try jacket for an online magic stunt,
that there is something even darker
and stranger than the ole' slight of
hand going on here...Then again, I
could be just running low on faculty
juice.....