Sacred
It is a feeling, it is a place; it is a thought, it is a masterful race
It's often been said, "you don't miss it 'til it's gone."
Many young and old travel this path and sadly, they are left feeling alone
Money can't buy it, a thieving man can't steal it; a sick man yearns for it, an unenlightened man squanders it
Simply irreplaceable on this earthly plane is this hallowed place
Voluminous beatitude of mind, body and spirit
You can't win it; you can't fake it
You can lose it, so it's prudent that you choose it
Supreme potency, vibrancy and expectancy hover greatly as the 'big wheel' turns
No masquerading, skating or eluding principle
Just standing upright on the power of this mighty throne
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
