I amLike a book.Quiet and calm,Yet adventurous and spirited.Words in black,With white ones in between.Mysterious and secretive,While imaginative and wondering.Open to findThe secrets I hide.
Do Not Fear,For I am right here.Darkness may seem close,But the light shines brighter.Evil may have lived.But it no longer has stuff to give.Stay true to your heart.Stay here where you belong.Do not fear,For I am right here.The monster is gone.Along with the flight.No longer here to string you along.And no longer to give you such a freight.No more will he take given life.No more will he take the happy and cheer.
If talking ever took us places,He'd be goneAnd we'd be closer than skin.If I stay silent,You get hurtBut believe my word.If I tell the truth,You'd might be safeAfter destroying me.If I explain what I know,You'd call me "Liar!"And outcast me.If I keep you safe,You would hate me.Distrust me.If I give you a chance,
TimeOne and twoThree and sixFive and ten.Nothing happens,For nothing changesAnd no one bothers to tryNot once since that day.Am I trappedOr frozen?Am I stuckOr caught by destiny?Time.Move alongOr be left behind,So which am I?
Sweet Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave,Let me once know.I sought thee in a secret cave,And ask'd, if Peace were there,A hollow wind did seem to answer, No:Go seek elsewhere.I did; and going did a rainbow note:Surely, thought I,This is the lace of Peace's coat:I will search out the matter.But while I looked the clouds immediatelyDid break and scatter.Then went I to a garden and did spyA gallant flower,The crown-imperial: Sure, said I,
Nature -- the Gentlest Mother is,Impatient of no Child --The feeblest -- or the waywardest --Her Admonition mild --In Forest -- and the Hill --By Traveller -- be heard --Restraining Rampant Squirrel --Or too impetuous Bird --How fair Her Conversation --A Summer Afternoon --Her Household -- Her Assembly --And when the Sun go down --Her Voice among the AislesIncite the timid prayerOf the minutest Cricket --The most unworthy Flower --
If faithful souls be alike glorifiedAs angels, then my fathers soul doth see,And adds this even to full felicity,That valiantly I hells wide mouth o'erstride:But if our minds to these souls be descriedBy circumstances, and by signs that beApparent in us, not immediately,How shall my mind's white truth by them be tried?They see idolatrous lovers weep and mourn,And vile blasphemous conjurers to callOn Jesus name, and PharisaicalDissemblers feigne devotion. Then turn,O pensive soul, to God, for he knows bestThy true grief, for he put it in my breast.