Every Heart Has A Crumbling Monastery Poem by Mark Heathcote
Every Heart Has A Crumbling Monastery
Every heart has a crumbling monastery.
A faithless path searching for fresh hope
Worshiping false idols hopelessly
So many unanswered prayers go
Left unheard in chambers,
sent underground to the incinerator.
But let's not forget to also, remember
that even in late December, there is still hope of a saviour
A spring that'll resurrect every fallen blossom on the bough eternal forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 4:32:28 PM # 1.0.0.1119
