By m.s.wardrip

Come and hear ye the sound,

Listen to the strings,

They are running fast,

Powerful notes all in a row,

The lines wave in and out,

Up and down, we are captive.

The tears are flowing,

The will is weeping,

Harsh reckonings,

Tall hurt is crushing,

Let the pain release,

The reason for harm.

All now and here is,

Best and worst,

Shouting up,

Cursing down,

Straight talk,

Accepting fate.

The nuance of a fairy morn,

Glitter dances in a fog,

Telling long forgotten woes,

Lifting the veil and lighting the page,

The heart contains the secrets,

A motion is loose in the soul.

Complex and ever changing rivers flow,

Telltale have-to’s that never sleep, never speak,

A load is lifted by a magnetic wench,

The ones who live far draw near to the source,

Of the ever-illuminating shimmer of translucence,

A pinnacle of the apex is solid refined gold energy.

All the volumes, all the all, all the less, all the more,

The library auditions waits in the hall by the door,

If it’s good enough for the richest man in the world,

It’s alright by me, alright by the sea, alright to see,

A desk overlooking the river north, in proper detail,

Accounting, colonizing, computing, shaving off chaff.

The stoic figure in the sea beckons me, but look no more,

I beat my fists on the golden shore and the birds light,

Creating an aura of iridescence over the graves of salty saints,

We all sinned together for the sake of hope, stretching, flexing abandoning fear,

Taking in the mystery, allowing the unknown to engulf us,

We play martyr to the marching orchestra, We give solace to the war.

Never do we surrender, we are the super team,

All our hopes and dreams are cast upon the sand,

We crawl, we stand, we walk and resolve to go on,

There is a thrill in the trill, a largo track, a pianissimo,

For this we hope, for this we strive, for this we are alive,

At peace, this classical drone, alone on the magnificent throne.