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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #2126387
He's knocking. It's up to us to answer.
Thump, thump the rapping comes
to startle me awake
moving with most quiet steps
sounds I did not make

"Tis the renter come to call,
call for rent is due".
thoughts of pleas and compromise
to pry a grand excuse

With no funds to pay my fee
my soul and nothing more
I wait to see if they will leave
then comes tapping as before

Noiselessly I tip-toe by
in shadows not to stir
heaving breathless undertones
their notice not to spur

Waiting silent by the door
to guard my motion still
with knocking comes a gentile voice
that speaks of my free will

"I ask of you nothing yet,
have a gift to give".
"You have but to open up,
and eternal life to live".
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