Twilight’s Tune

bright eyes blinded by belligerent brilliance

holding hope over helpless heathens.

overt steely obstinance obtains ornament,

till tip-toed talkative toddlers tire.

three thought thrilling though,

hands hardly heavier hide children,

suffering sickly silence, solemnly

remembering reconciliation before reverence.

who would want such a weakling,

varnished with vitriolic vinegar and lye,

harping endlessly on forgotten follies,

with wide-eyed weariness swallowing the soul?

oh, are you always so angry my angel -

melting morose memories into stars?

have i heard your hopes in earnest

or scratched the surface of someone's secret?

dreams don't deliberately defy diligence;

they throw themselves through trials.

and if ever I intentionally injure,

know no need negates the negligence.

somewhere, someone speaks such sweetness,

but depth defines decisions - docile and decent.

how could you hear her humming,

if ears only open under abject obedience?