Laughter is in the rose of the heart.
Yet directed with hate makes the woes to start.
A world of misunderstanding to show the loving soul a wraith.
And many intentions and preoccupations Seen as a fit of shame and lack of faith.
That the multitudes of incorrect summations Leads the people to a certain ire.
And one panics for it can’t understand the fire.
Yet one is given to a more harmonious way with Love.
The crippled spirit cry as loud as the dragons bellow above.
Most see him as a Felonious cretin a folly a disambiguation.
Yet his Love shines magnanimous Full of the splendor of higher sensation.
That will is weak for the misery is vast.
That perhaps love shall end it their victory come swift and they will be the victor at last.
That the seen as monster is as a gracefully lily and gentle song.
And that the injustice flow like wine as the maddening curse prolong.
Yet their is hope in the Lord, rose of Sharon wise and true.
Yes, there is hope under the evicerating beauty of the blue
Poetry