What To Believe
What is there left for one to believe in
to trust, hold sacred, defend with one’s life.
When were beauty’s rainbow taut bowed archers
laid resting in gray holes of mindless greed?
Could not the eyes be lifted on frail wings
the heart be told the folly of its lies
as every beat became a drummers call
uncover fallen arc from darkened veil.
What was it caused the colors to so pale
that light could not refract nor reignite
the cloudless arch of chariots long past
nor darkness hide the shame of lost belief.
"B" Forms, 10 Plus lines Poetry Contest
Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2021
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