Thy Kingdom Come

52 Poems - Raw. Visceral. Unfiltered poetry.

"Here's your bullet, a prayer in lead,
Swallow my silence, choke on my dread.
I’ll write for the ghosts, not the crowd,
I will speak low, but it will be loud.

No psalm to bind, no hands to bless,
Only echoes where vows digress.
Kneel in dust, let truth confess,
Take this hymn, may it never rest."