Persuasive notions locked away,
in many minds that go astray;
When working along cryptic lines,
which falter during chaotic times.

While hidden in a separate space,
these musings tend to be erased;
Forgotten now in empty spheres,
dissolve as echoes of chronic fears.

Perhaps society has been foretold,
of magic tales so brave and bold;
Yet through the mastery of lies,
they disappear before our eyes.

Inside the quaintly shuttered room,
the words seem subtle but still in tune;
When wanton tales aroused before,
a complex world of closing doors.

A fountain sits at the center of town,
with crystal waters falling like tears;
Folks wandering before an impending storm,
searching for answers to their wayward years.

Slate-gray skies appear ominous above,
with streaks of claret edging each cloud;
Lightning flashes strike the earth with force,
in a whirlwind of furious sights and sounds.

Is there nowhere to run and hide away ?
While fears cut deeply like sharpened knives;
Immense sorrow suspends the hope for relief,
as desperation rules each person's life.

Then a child climbs up the tallest tree,
gently singing among the wild torment;
Branches snap off tumbling to the ground,
as the child continues his sad lament.

From the heavens a sudden jolt is felt,
which sends this child a magic wand;
Each leaf of the tree turns to solid gold,
and harmony returns to this anguished land.

At first there was a gust of wind,
that shattered meager minds;
Forever gone those broken dreams,
now replaced by curious rhymes.

From the essence of a spirit's voice,
the flowing breezes contemplate;
Each thought diminished by the cold,
which freezing rains soon dissipate.

In countless times of pondering,
where a moment starts and ends;
Left demolished in a whirl of smoke,
that shrouds what words intend.

As emptiness creeps within a heart,
which once was filled with bliss;
A stranger walks upon the earth,
to find what he has missed.

With mighty forces at his side,
an icy blast is blown apart;
And destiny arrives to save,
secrets held right from the start.

The cerulean ocean sends its tides,
with waves that catch our curious eyes;
In captivation we seem mesmerized,
by the way the ocean touches the skies.

Among blankets laying on the sand,
are buckets and shovels to lend a hand;
In building a castle or digging for clams,
as the sunshine swells with each demand.

Subtle and muted are the water's rhymes,
and blossoms forth from seaside mimes;
Those haunting sounds now fill the air,
from mystics foretelling in poet's lair.

While daylight turns into soft twilight,
the blankets are gathered and set on flight;
With children asleep in their mother's arms,
and young lovers await the charm of stars.

She washed the dishes and scoured the floor,
the laundry folded and left by the door;
Walking away to head back home,
a voice inside then urged her to roam.

There she was on the street at night,
where old and young must battle the blight;
Her blue-gray eyes began to tear,
since just last week she was living here.

Cold and brittle the sidewalks seemed,
it's not a place where many dare dream;
A saving grace took her from this place,
with thoughts of charity she couldn't erase.

Her most humble work is a daily sign,
that folks can truly be decent and kind;
Though tired and worn her hands may be,
safe and secure her work sets her free !

Anxious thoughts bear heavy burdens,
as specters rise in clouds;
Which float above the mist of light,
to avoid the angry crowds.

Just one corner of life's expectancy,
survives in sullen grief;
If only someone would show the way,
to salvation and relief.

The water's edge is frozen now,
no telling what may come;
A skater falls on an icy patch,
in the remnants of the sun.

Release again a mighty wind,
to capture all the sinners;
And if the iceberg floats away,
we'll follow just like winners.

And sitting at the pointed peak,
are cold and bitter ends;
Yet somewhere binds a silver thread,
with caution towards a friend.

As zephyrs tell their tales of woe,
with longing to sweep the trials;
Of innocents watching from afar,
while climbing across the miles.

In ruination they must take heed,
of clamoring soldiers at the gate;
As heroes march in bold display,
spreading miracles from the saints.

Standing tall and windswept now,
the children grasp the leaves;
Enthralled by eerie missives blown,
in ragged layers of words received.

But when the scrolls unravel with,
those stories not yet revealed;
Their grandest secrets will lay bare,
for generations to toss and repeal.

But if their meanings keep at bay,
the callousness of our sins;
Our future lies in layers which,
seek to awaken each life again.