Due to my inability to focus long enough to write a short story recently, I seem to be writing a lot of poems. Hopefully you don’t mind, besides, the less time I spend on short stories, the longer I spend on my next book. 😉 Anyways, here’s a short, little poem I wrote sometime last weekend and edited a bit:
It is not by your strength, but mine that you stand.
It is not by your lungs, but mine that you breath.
It is by me that armies are damned.
It is by my eyes that you shall see.
It is not your tears, but my cries that are heard.
It is not your hope, but my love that you feel.
It is by my wonders you are cured.
It is my power that you shall wield.
It’s not by your friends that you are comforted,
but it is me that whispers hope and your name.
Not you that speaks what is rightly said,
but it is I whom makes your words tame.
It’s not you who lives, but I, who lives in you.
Not human power, but I, who is your fuel.