Get Your Premium Membership

Daily Toiling

Oh Lord above the Great skies Prayers stand before your face. With heads bow, and tears in our eyes, We grieve in solitude with silence. We cannot leave home to go visiting, Tearful floods and tempests mourning Oh death, toiling, where is your sting? Struggles, among the crowd, hurrying. And when its work shall be, done Where will this ruin the world be? Stretch thin and breach broken Separation deepen, and we cannot see The phantom force equally Growing In, discoveries made, by daily toiling.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.