THE LANGUAGE OF TONGUES
Marching
against the army of silence,
Clamorous
as ankle bells
Was
the barking roar of the rushing wind
Harbinger
of the Finger visitor
Of
pinnacle flaming torches
Hanging
like red wrecks against a vivid sky
On
our head it showered
Courage
gripped our heart
Shattering
the fortress against our faith
While
our trembling lips gave voice
In
the language of tongues
To
the denied truth
They came, they saw,
they marvelled
As
leaves arguing in the parliament of trees
Over
the intoxication of the wind
Was
the conspiracy on their lips
He spoke, they listened and stared
Rattling
their confusion to silence
His
tongue dropped hailstones
On
the roof top of captive ears
Painting
little hell on the canvas of their mind
Knocking
down the sentry of heeding heart
Through
the titanic gloom of chasm fear
In
the language of tongues bore repentance
©
MERCY SMILE
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