i have said this will at times be a place to empty my head. what comes out of it could never do the actual Inklings justice, but i have chosen to call such writing by this name.
wind howling around the windows
searches for a way into the warmth
trying to chill the inside with its breath.
similarily, coldness yearns to steal past
the gates of my heart and take away
the warmth of joy.
murals painted on walls, guns drawn on doors
where will the pain end?
it's here, at the outside gates, that the evil wind howls
here that it seeks to steal the joy of this people.
but their hearts are warm and loving.
caring beyond the past, into the present
reaching for the future.
a time without walls. no holds barred.
joy unspeakable, full of glory.
God's truth reigns.
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