William Kelii Kekaula Poet Haibun

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'angels Danced'

Woe, begone, you wretched apparition and cringe your digits--your devil's horns. Your wizardry is but a mere toy, rightfully played by little boys. You have steeped with malice for the bewitching hour, is but gone. Yet, what haunts your thoughts? A demon who walks the night, be this your palatial painting true, your chambered halls, that brew the pit of your soul. Even evil has a soul--somewhat--so when they die, the prince of darkness will have a host of minions to serve him, so if be true, that evil is part of your wretched disregard, should not the house be painted in a bruise. Ah yes-- it's the angelic hour, for the anemic hour has gone. Shadows of the night, locked in their corners due to the candled hours. Our righteous sun has begun, for the battle to keep at bay, are her enemies night's reward. The day will be long and arduous until the sun is called away. So Prayer Warriors, raise up your swords, to the 23rd Psalms. My Diurnal Prayer: ~~~~~~~"the Highest be praised for the life I live for the breath you give"~~~~~~~My Nocturnal Prayer:

for a life that had
lived for a life that has learned
sheperd king amen


Date: 08/21/2019

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