Best Faithblue Poems
The sky is blue, so please do not lie.
If it is not, then we shall all die
Like Sampaguita when it is burned:
Its white petal is life; ash is death.
Stay thin, O cloud above the Earth,
So seeing the color is not hard.
Being low is not humility
When other lower eyes cannot see
The real colors of the ones that fly.
It is a wall of divisiveness.
Stay thin, O cloud below the sky,
So that the Earth can see real blueness.
But you are made of the way you are.
You could not hear the voice from afar.
The science of skepticism
Runs through your veins like the human blood,
Develops objectivism
Of how sky's hue may be understood.
As knowledge thickens, so does your doubt.
You hide the blue sky at day, O cloud.
You pretend to be stronger than wind.
But you fall down in the form of rain.
Many lower eyes you made blind
Now see that the sky is blue again.
I awoke, to find myself standing in the middle of a concrete covered wasteland.
i could'nt seem to shake the feeling, that i've been here before.
but i can't seem to remember when, or why?
the only thing that seemed to remain,was the faint smell of a paradise long gone.
I began to seach for the way in, hoping it would lead to the way out!
as i felt my life's force fading away, i knew my demise was drawing near.
i knelt down to pray, dear god forgive me!
As i spoke a calming warmth came over me, i no longer feared death, i called for it!
at that moment i knew, my body and soul were no longer one.
my earthy form was but an empty shell.
It was then death welcomed me into his arms, i cradled my head down,
into the bosom of the reaper. i senced a great sorrow, flowing from deep within the dark one.
pulsing out from where a heart, could never be.
It seemed like day's, but were only moments!
i opened my eyes and saw only clear blue sky.
a light breeze wrapped itself around me, bringing with it the most glorious, feeling of joy.
I knew i was home and safe. turning i found myself gazing into the worn green eyes of an
angel. with a loving smile, and a powerful fludder of her wings, she was gone!
Clad only in old blue jeans, my saving angel, with torn and tattered wings.