THE FAITHFUL

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There is a gale under my skin
A typhoon in my blood ocean

There is a tempest in my tummy
A tsunami resides in my head

There is a cyclone in my ink cup
My quill is afire, consuming

My heart is whitened, sainted
My eyes are crimsoned, bedeviled

The cyclone in my ink cup
Quakes my salt rugged fingers

The sirens inside my ears
Quivers my legs excitedly

I know better than to listen
I know better than to look too

I gripped my quill harder
Inserted it in the cup, soaked

I brought it to bear on the scroll
With faith, my duty I did.

I’m a faithful one.










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