The sea of despair circles our dreams.
Hovering so softly like well oiled time machine.
Seizing the moment to devour it's prey.
Lurking like the devil in quiet disarray.
To snatch a dream from the dreamweaver within.
Use it to rip the heart out of him.
So a guarded heart and the weapons of war.
Must be followed to snake out a lure.
If we can't cast we dig to keep the demons away.
We stand on truths in the name of the one.
Who shakes down vessels and brings golden suns.
The master's fate is a fate indeed.
A passionate verse...your truth shall be heard. Dorothy A Poet Who Loves To Sing