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.