The Weavers of Faith-Bryan Stanley
I look to my left then to my right, four feet from me I look into the eyes of potentiality they say "Your healthy young man the deadly diabolical virus won't bother you". Then a phone call to the Grim Reaper tells that one of our own is deathly ill. As time creeps by a thought of every possible of the red, black or painful death.
Now I find myself walking the edge of the Abyss. I can't breath, my breath of woven cloth holds my life force in the pain of corona of the light.
Like a shooting star through the cosmos with a chance to collide in my imperfect world. Now through the wind of my conquering I see the universal play of life go on.
With a deadly path people have chosen to ignore. I now sit in my cell and pray to my God's unseen, my weavers of the fate. I see the wisdom in the world and earn a chance at life, I am so happy to be a dad!