In this Heart there Flows such Rhyme
That Brings a Light and Flame of Flowers,
Marching to a Tune in its own Time,
Resisting all the treasonous Hours.
Words Bedeck these Thoughts’ Serenity,
Though Shades oft’ clamour o’re the Way,
Filled with Vague Hued Perplexity,
Lingering, Enticing, Tempting to Stray.
Mark this Moment, Bright Star of Hope,
Fail not to Shine in this Hour of Need,
Strident Glimmer Give Courage to Cope,
For Losing Your Light is Darkness Indeed.
Ever Light and Dark Contend, at Odds,
Battle of Poor Men; Battle of Gods.
~Morgan~
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Beautiful Image found at: paintbits.com
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