How could one with words a storm abate ?
How could I with words change cruel fate ?
Words are such frail things, I fear,
Faint ephemera, they appear,
Light the night, then disappear
When morn's flames their wings do sear...
In the dark, storm rages on,
From the sea waves rise anon,
Words aloft get washed upon
Mine old isle, their spark so wan...
Curse I thee, oh dreadful storm !
Come to me, my bosom warm...
Heartbeats soft, vorbele dorm,
Sparks rekindled, hopes reborn...
In their sleep they sigh, they weep,
In my soul mine words I keep,
In their dreams my senses dip,
Feelings new in me soon leap...
Unbound strides the storm still hides,
Sky-high tides my soul soon rides...
Words awaken from their slumber
Flight they take on wings of thunder...
Heavens fill they without number,
Storm's deep roar torn is asunder...
Skies light up...and words shine bright,
In the clouds consume their light
To give birth, fulgurant sight,
Die then scorched by their own light...
Oh my sweet words born to thunder !
Birth gave Ye to blissful wonder !
Thy face cast on blue sky yonder !
The storm returns...
...cruel fate still churns...