priscilla's chronicles

At last

A beautiful acoustic attunes false strings
to create a lullaby  that penetrates the forlorn abyss of a crying man,
the song bothers  his idle tranquillity,
and pushes him into an awakening,
so he may brave perils labouring to burst.

beyond the debris of his thought
he can see the greenery on the foreign side
looks feeble to invade, and something else in the fighting midst
warrants him a fortitude to forge ahead,
but it’s really a dear someone,
who feeds him strength in a hopelessness as damning such as this

Though he knows to quit is a fathomable excuse,
He now understands it’s a false utopia,
one shamed by God for the temporal refuge it provides.
The only way is to brave the fray...
so there he goes...
to confront the foes

there,He’ll encounter barren paths,
feigned cheers of encouragement,
and at times no one unto whom he can rest.
But he must go on,
on the road less taken,

there,
 peace, purpose and love are
amply fed to him by a God,
who brought him there in the first place.
and this will be his dwelling
forever and ever…
 so help him God.