Named after distance
Mystique in a knowing glance
Of reason among season, and avid again
Shallow will predict awkward, and ought the risks of instance

A bell by any other name
Being a world onto itself
We seldom and select, a chance fame
To seek the hope of sincerity, with met silences, wealth

Shadows seem to know where to go...
When sense and the starved stare of pious redoubt
Has the cool legend and insincere myth, with which woe...
Is a sight in the mercy of other's, the wonder of clashes to pout?

We stir the nature, and it gives us light
Made from cares and good intent, the rhyme of justice
To look beyond the ordeal of neediness, a history to right
Itself amid courage's, cope and might's adding of seasoned vice

Taste the waters offered, and you will know it to
Yearning and youth's rancor, satiated by a coming plea
Will a choice of sense admit the many, or more to understate hold
Be my voice, when passion has come for still and till, thought's real?