Bleak skies above,
Filled of dark stormy clouds.
Tormented fields beneath,
Deep cracks weave the parched soil.
Raging fires burn wild,
Soon they will end,
When there is nothing left to burn.
I will then seek among the ashes,
While there is life, I will rise again.
I will be born to a new tomorrow,
In a world of solitude and grace.
www.poetrybyrainier.com
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