Revelation
All happens for a reason.
We meet whose who we so like.
We dance, love, commit treason
With tingling energy spike.
One door has got to be shut
For another to open.
Else your guts would slowly rot
In wooden box that's oaken.
Let your tired soul freely fly,
Go through rejuvenation.
He would watch you from the sky
And grant you revelation.
Copyright © Agatha Jetaime | Year Posted 2015
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