Seated here today, composing poetry OR should I correct myself, I was aiming to compose poetry that fitted with that which was set in my creative mind. In short and simple, I sat here trying to compose poetry that fitted that which wwas within my own creative mindset.
Yet what resulted w as a poem That is NOT a Part of “The Untitled Series”, BUT in itself had a title that should pose a question for readers. Yet I will fore warn readers that this poem is based on Faith, BUT based on Faith only to pose a few questions for believers and then have them question where Truth is and Who OR What Answers such questions regarding Truth.
What IF those who answer such questions on Truth were not answering for Truth BUT from a mindset that in the end deflects from the truth? What if all you thought you knew was from the opposite to where you seek to look. How much of what is preached of faith now actually teaches as it should?
This is NOt to deflect folks fro truth BUT to have them question Do we trust where it comes from? and How much has been dilouted and watered down?
Having said all of that I do hope that you enjoy this Poem:
((The above photograph has been taken from an outside source and displayed here with thanks, Copyrite still remains with those who carried out such great work))
Fire’s Temple
Running on this road with no heavy load,
Without the code to guide when all else slowed.
The fog that rolled through nothing left the fold,
But truth be told what broke the Mold was cold.
Still running as the heart turned cold as ice,
Roll the dice calling the price for a slice.
Where truth was currency with a lone cross,
The rolling stone gathers moss at what loss?
Lingering at the verge of something new,
Determined Faith’s face that lights what you knew.
But ladders of discontent crumble here,
Who shed their tears thus fake for but a beer?
So far from the garden we wander wide,
The church waits for its bride watered with pride.
Traders ne’er in the temple now, but where?
Yet trading on His Name to dare and swear.
Where saving grace called to the lost, they loot,
Yet buildings burn the price where hatred mute.
Who dares walk the path thus narrow and true,
Clear the rubble of man's sins fire and view!
© Pat Fitzgerald 2023
Thank you for reading this far into this post, It means a lot to me that folks read my work and enjoy them. Some poetry contain topics that may or may not contain issues that readers either agree with or experience or simply will disagree with. But still Poetry is a form of art work that I enjoy and thus using it in a manner to touch the reader.
My path through writing and publishing it on this blog is a journey beyond any expectations. So my thanks to you for joining me on this journey.
Poetry for me is a constant learning curve that I always strive to improve. Often due to the speed of my typing and a few other issues, mistakes and typos will find their way into published posts. I continue to work on improving this as I move along. My thanks for your understanding this.
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Until Next Time Cheers.
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