Saint Sun Poem by Liza Sud

Saint Sun



And the light here around is not white,
but very dark gray, even black,
it's as the worst of people's sorrows
when good or evil people come.

the Holy Sun is behind it-
it shines for people dayly, nightly.
it comes through any of your griefs,
is sweet as sugar in rough honey.

Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: religion
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