This poem is an emotion,
Time's-hand, had cast to land.
'Twas set, and sailed the oceans,
While in it-stayed solemn;coping,
Exists a never weathered stance...
This ship has scores of secrets,
From coffins steeped in mind.
To help subdue those regrets,
That came affront, on reject-
Of peace, behind-awaiting deaths demise...
Steady paced, it shan't be early-
Not rushed by ebbing pensive waves.
It's hoards of wisdom, hope to hurl thee-
With knowledge bound securely,
Through heavens golden gates...
These words arose from darkness,
From shadows-masked, that pranced.
I believe that you all want this,
Or maybe not?-regardless,
Here-to gleam's, a sentries memory dance...
From where did we all came from?
What birthed our making mark?
'Twas from a spark pre-summoned;
Stroked flint by futures wondering,
Where were our flames-to see a fires start...
Leafing down rays-of sun we found might,
Now captured in days-all shadows we'd climb.
Many pathways we made-each one of more strife,
Was this our fate-puppets, shackled to time?
Whence comes escape, from graves-into we dived?
In one, as all-we walked, as the one-In all did walk,
Muddled in confusion, we each-from one, took part.
Guided by a hand undone-all formed a separate flock,
Thinking now-we had all won, ships set sail to dock-
Though we forgot in our rush, to give one back it's shards...
A cross he gave-with sacrifice, that we may see our sin.
By his grace, a master-wise, descended to our midst.
All to take, his teachings-tried, shall see their evil cringe.
Souls give shapes-cunning design, to test the infinite.
Hearts remake-prisms divine, restoring him our image...
Here we stand today-
Broken through the haze,
And I can truly say-
These are the glory days...
