12/01/19 - Thoughts

It is such a strange thing

To hold in one’s hand

A storehouse of truth,

Though, instead, love a lie. 

Why does one stare,

‘To the eyes of the King

And continue to spit

At His glorious throne?

And who is a man

That the sun should, in all,

Give its light and warmth,
Though he be a speck in the dust?

- Ray