trepidity

If I could sigh a thousand songs of light

that lilting softly guide me far away,

from book's torn page would I quick, run, alight

to soar, to fly to lands where dreams but stay.

My soul no longer would be cursed to roam

a world where sorrow plagues the field of mind

in horrid cries that twisting, strangle moans

from lives torn by sound's blackened, dreary shrine.

The jeering scorns that mocking in dread's fright,

a fear dark in its paralyzing form,

forbidding me to dream, to sing, to write -

those thoughts once bright quick into dust transform.

Yet in the darkness hope shines vivid, new

and with my pen the freeing thought pursue.

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