A Bucket of Grace
By George Chow •
I see the merging crowd of wings linear into work loads.
The last release breath each is what make them fly high for.
Use and bless by the sit of Holy one,
in exchange of a heart eternal.
Each way in a sort of direction-
is another way to break the grey.
Since the gloom begins,
when love is an account of an endless record.
By each Arch-
Record each faith and Truth.
Record each day's mercy the no mercy earn.
For a hope if i ever grow.
I was worth awhile.
By a bucket of grace in its plain mold.