This fleshly prison, the soul must flee…..eventually.
Organs and veins, aches and pains, supplemental health claims.
Creeks and cracks, random mishaps, the human body tax.
The still imprisoned will remain and weep.
Denials and trials, tossing and turning, no sleep.
Coveting leftovers, diamonds and gold, still growing old.
This fleshly prison, the soul must flee…..eventually.
Ascending, Descending or Guardian Angeling
Ethereal happenings beyond our simple sphere.
Worry and fear dissipate into the atmosphere.
Silencing the burden of accomplishment, defeat or conceit.
A life span is a blip on the radar of humanity.
This fleshly prison, the soul must flee…Eventually.
About the Creator
Dayna Clark
I'm a bad motherwriter.
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After the Storm
After the storm of winter snow there sat a small bear by the name Ted, of course. He loves the snow and likes to roll around in it making all sorts of trails and whatever he has a mind to do. He wondered where all the people are, but in a way, he is hoping that they are all snug in the homes maybe drinking hot chocolate-one of his favorite drinks with mini-marshmallows and eating something homemade for he likes this winter wonderland all to himself to romp and play and maybe even catch some fish down by the river.
By Mark Graham6 days ago in Fiction
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