Title: The Voice of the Soul
Author: Eden Soriano Trinidad
We are the voice, the hearts,
and hands of every flower in a garden,
The rocks, seas, and mountains beg us
to pen the works of the heavens.
Dried up creeks still longingly await
For the tears to well up
And open the spouts of heavens
And the fusion of rushing cold tears could finally paint the muse
Spend days and nights
being glad about your pens
For gladness is your only true friend
Do not “yield your glory to another".
July 16, 2020
All Rights Reserved
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