I pray for warmth;
One that soothes and lingers,
To burn despite the chill;
To kindle dampened hearts.
The ember of grace,
May it not die out,
From the biting cold and wet.
May the flame endure the spite,
Of untamed weathers;
That it blaze without ceasing,
Unyielding but kind.
Let it light a pyre of hope;
Amidst the windswept rubbles,
Of the tempest past.
May it resonate what signals lost,
And restore where wires are cut.
Let this beacon carry,
Words of homebound comfort;
And reach places where refuge,
Still has not been.
May scattered shards and rocks,
Find their rightful place;
For the mud and dust to bind,
The stones of a stronger hearth.
Let it mend lives,
Burdened from palm to sole.
May it help kindred faces,
Find lost and forgotten smiles;
Let them gather again brightly,
Like the stars of December skies.

For what are lies but ugly words
Cruelly dressed in fancy clothes
Which came to grace the masquerade
Until their very meaning erodes.
The truth in every swearer's tongue
Hummed loudly like an untamed gong
And ears bled out from aching songs
Unbridled by unmuted wrongs.
The host is left without respite
From ghosts that haunt the drunken night
The table unset, the music died
Without recompense, without requite.