Static is the humdrum
Ecstatic is what sells
She lets out a sigh of deep remorse
Clanging temple bells
Amidst roaring cacophonies and melting edifices
Shrieking faceless men
Peace is truly for the wicked
In contradiction’s den
But the sheep they march on and on
The piper plays his tune.
The say darkest before dawn.
She sees no sight of the moon.
But as she turns her back on hope,
The piper missed a beat.
Tearing through the concrete cracks
The saplings tickle her feet.
Looming darkness now twilight,
A Stillness deep and calm.
She welcomes dawn’s sweet embrace.
For beauty brings no harm.