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Abstract

tent=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure>A fine instrument the tongue belies An oil of healing a soothing balm Wielding power beyond its size A weapon of torture lasting harmTowering above the dizzy heights Descending below such murky depths Blessings and curses the same adorn Bitter and sweet the water drawnA path of thorns wherein you walk With utmost care beware your tread A rod to s

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trike from wanton talk And nation harm with silent dreadA sword of fiery cutting edge From heaven’s reign on vocals right Smite the foe of piercing rage Spoken force with holy mightBeautiful feet like apples of gold Set in silver the good news told Rising faith from story old Words of freedom you do hold©2022, <a href="https://medium.com/@satish.reuel">Satish Ramjee</a></article></body>

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A fine instrument the tongue belies An oil of healing a soothing balm Wielding power beyond its size A weapon of torture lasting harm

Towering above the dizzy heights Descending below such murky depths Blessings and curses the same adorn Bitter and sweet the water drawn

A path of thorns wherein you walk With utmost care beware your tread A rod to strike from wanton talk And nation harm with silent dread

A sword of fiery cutting edge From heaven’s reign on vocals right Smite the foe of piercing rage Spoken force with holy might

Beautiful feet like apples of gold Set in silver the good news told Rising faith from story old Words of freedom you do hold

POETRY

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