Posted in Poetry

the good people

Thunder and lightning swirling

The palace of heaven tumbling

The Angels of Mutiny are falling

Falling below, downward, falling

into the sea and the earth.

While the light of Divine Grace

still flickers on the scraped wings,

They become the Good People

too vivacious to be in Hell.

Author:

I write stuff of my interest that does not interest anyone in my blog. No grammarians, no copy editors, no marketers, no cynics are welcome.

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