They sit alone on the highest mountain,
rejecting the world around;
While nature sings its lovely songs,
they barely hear a sound.

The wind caresses the budding trees,
the summer flowers are in bloom;
But vacant souls and shallow hearts,
comfortably reside within the gloom.

Their motto is to take--not give,
and flaunt their hollow success;
While hurting all they claim to love,
and shedding each honored quest.

Now they're humbled by the night,
in the cold and bitter rain;
These trembling skeletons of regret,
now left alone assessing blame.

If only they'd reach out to God,
where forgiveness lies within;
But with the pride of shattered wills,
they simply turn away in shame.

The loathsome devil living in Hades fire,
casually stoking the embers of wanton desire;
His wanderlust soon carries him away,
to mere mortals weakened and gone astray.

Quite vulnerable as humans oft' can be,
he steers through the smoke of invisibility;
Taking the shape of any common being,
he strikes at gentle hearts without our seeing,

A young lady in distress calls out in pain,
as a hazy shadow looms above the scene;
Her anguished cries are desperate to be heard,
by some kind soul who'll stop and heed her words.

But Satan's shadow transforms into a beast,
a monstrous sign of evil now released;
Roaring viciously and baring gnarled teeth,
approaching the helpless woman mired in grief.

Yet suddenly a sign of peace stirs within,
this beastly savage borne of devil's kin;
A flock of doves released from heaven's bower,
reveals this masked avenger as a coward.

A glorious host of spirits floated downward,
to heal our lady's pain with saintly powers;
In quick retreat the devil had skulked away,
his fiery eyes diminished at the dawn of day.

In faith perceived a chance to mourn,
and learn to live without the scorn;
Of hatred's voices through the years,
which claims the soul with wrenching tears.

With peacefulness to rule our days,
meandering together through the maze;
Of tortured anguish which presents,
a force we need to guard against.

The seasons bear the fruits of love,
from Heaven's Host who lives above;
In missives sent so loud and clear,
as gentle angels calm our fears.

With stillness of the whitest light,
no longer torn apart by night;
Those ghastly hours melt like ice,
in whispering winds relieving strife.

And so the echoed hearts arise,
to chant their wills thus to survive;
Despite the sadness of the past,
we hear the prayers arrive at last.

The ephemeral voice of solstice fades,
in solemn hushes from the sky;
While August melts its perfumed air,
and yellowed leaves go floating by.

Summer dreams define our will,
to follow our hearts' desires;
And when each day is briefer still,
we cling to sunlight's fire.

Looking ahead toward Autumn's face,
with wistful sighs of loss;
We spend our evenings under the stars,
feeling an early touch of frost.

And while the ocean dares to play,
its siren's song of love;
The blackest night can never fade,
when mists caress the doves.

Only the poets feel the pain,
of climbing up the mountains;
Where thoughts and visions are pursued,
and run down the hills like fountains.

Yet often running far too fast,
and under a mystical spell;
At first it seems like heaven's arrived,
then we're burning as if in hell.

Opening our eyes to what's around,
the solemnity and beauty engaged;
Just as the theatrical moment begins,
to set the long sought-for stage.

The words sublime yet subtle too,
in notions of earthly pleasures;
But still the poet seeks the heart,
to burst out loud with treasures.

Alone inside this cavernous room,
with torrential rain falling outside;
I watched as seagulls flew away,
racing onward to the raging tides.

Climbing up to reach a poetry book,
in this library that became my home;
My fascination grew stronger still,
as I pulled down a massive tome.

Shakespeare and Tennyson filled my mind,
with words and phrases of delight;
I read aloud till my voice gave out,
and sputtered along into the night.

When a single light glowed from the sky,
I called out to the heavens with tears;
As keen memories of the lessons past,
ignited a yearning from childhood years.

I stood and watched the sullen moon,
then spoke aloud my own soliloquy;
Enlightened once more by literature,
which calms the soul and sets us free.

My mirrored reflection begins the story,
that hearkens back to ancient glory;
In the ageless wonder of fantasy,
my face seems smooth with smiles carefree.

If under the sun I call my name,
the wisps of clouds fly away in shame;
Forever the brightest star I'll be,
like the leaf of an autumnal tree.

Slipping back to current reality,
my rugged skin seems foreign to me;
I never thought of growing older,
I only believed in becoming bolder.

So where in the world did my life go ?
is it hiding under the hills of snow ?
Or perhaps a vibrant dance to the sea,
where everything seems wild and free ?

I guess it's such as others proclaim,
the solitary voice which speaks our name;
Is the one which only the Lord God knows,
in a gift of love from so long ago.