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Poem

Isn't there time for everything?
living in night of terror,
When fear and grieve is deeply flying in the darkness of the skies.
Yet i shall survive.
Wondrous scenes happen in favor of the distressed.
But the wicked does not notify.
This happens wondrously by nature.
They have no axe to grind.
Beating human to resemble the slaughtering of sheep.
I shall survive.
Their bloody tears is full of anger and rage.
Their sweat displays agony and pain.
Scars and wound promises action.
Heart filled with hatred.
They must walk on egg shell to prevent flaming fist.
Cos, the warpath of nature will rise to the extend of upsetting the apple cart.

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