Boots

Their boots, they will stomp to the beat of a thunderous doom.

I can’t walk with them anymore… My steps are made gentle; laid in light by grace.

Their shouts, they will get louder and echo; with no walls to contain them.

I am deaf to them… my ears, thank God, are for those voices no more; only divine whispers do I hear.

Their fists will crash down with hammers heavy with emptiness.

Feel their pain? No…
for pain is not of battered flesh; but of a searching heart.

They will glare with contempt; with anger’s darkness daring light not to surrender to a temptation so seemingly sweet.

But not the light that shines for me; tempted not by fleeting beauty; yielding only to the beauty of Truth.