The window seat provides the best view,
totally open and alive with light;
Each sweeping hand of clocks everywhere,
remotely designs the winged flight.

Crestfallen and alone the light grows dim,
while birds of prey circle overhead;
Every likeness corrupts the willing mind,
as cowardly thoughts run through our heads.

In a rain-soaked dawn the cool air beckons,
to follow images savored with passionate intent;
And promises kept are merely remembrances,
of sullen cries scorned through discontent.

An uneasy peace rises as visions before us,
become missives sent down from shadowy skies;
We savor this reckoning with spirits' confusion,
watching conflicts dissipate before our eyes.