when everything looses its taste and vengeance cloth the <br />agony of the heart, the gnashing of teeth birth the beginning <br />of hatred, and the sting of death lives with thy soul, through <br />out generation to come <br /> <br />every faith challenge the discernment of the heart, living behind <br />the tears of the innocent, that calls the coolness of a stumble <br />heart, sprouted like an incense fume, chanting the bravery of <br />fear <br /> <br />as the eyes sees the suffering of the soul, the venue settled <br />down an avenue of loosing one's life, an experience of thy heart <br />that lives beyond man's personal conviction to die, even death <br />is not an option just to rise an honor to what faith calls <br /> <br />as the ladder of pain hurts the shadow of death, the will to live <br />is beyond compare, to shed blood, is what it is call, living <br />through dying is the only wisdom to live in harmony to every <br />man's faith <br /> <br />life is a call, to gain the fame of living is to give what is best in <br />life, it is in a small thing you give that, life brings us to see <br />and find the meaning of what is life...... a call to live<br /><br />Antonio Liao<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-voice-of-the-poor/
