Non-descript Poetry

For a man, comfort, thy name is power,
And had we sought not less than all;
We'd maintain the insight that fools cower,
But rather find that the faithless fall.

His name though some doth have distaste,
Rumble the vowels that English placed.
If man denies from whence he came,
The more he recognized his name.
Complains that realities not clear enough,
He hardens his heart, his pathways rough.
Though that man to sin he dies,
Repents he now, to Christ relies.

By Evan Gunn Wilson

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