by Stefon Napier12 Jan 2014
The resolve in my soul,
It's like Jug holding.
That tipsy weight in a storm, wind prejudiced as ever, while thunder bouts overhead so the world might seem unhinged and the soul unheard.
The cellars always calling but I'm jug holding and pacing myself.
No lion am I turning tail from animosity.
No poet am I turning my pen away from the gale.