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Written: November 27, 2024, For Contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
                         ____________________________
Whimsical whispers of wind 
are my wondrous wicket  
restive and ready, a roaming heart hymn.
Each vermillion tick brings me near, 
from distant domains where 
dreams displace despair.

Freely frolicking under 
a fabulous firmament
I sense the skyline in my bosom  
my moniker is murmured 
by majestic mountains 
and oceans offer an opulent ode 
as waves whisper sickles whistle.

Melody of the metropolis melts  
my moniker will manifest 
in gleaming golden gavotte. 
Amber meadows and nature-nurture my soul.
yearning to thanatopsis yonder, 
yet craving to be anywhere but here.
 
Allow me to waltz with waning whispers. 
Whirling winds whisper where starlight sways.  
With each step, I weave my splendid tapestry.  
let me locate my lane—soul set free
from waxing oculus snarls. 

In the hush of a bustling ballroom 
hands hammering hastily 
on hardwood, as hyperactive ants  
I linger—a silhouette amidst smiles 
laughter lingers lightly~
languid leaves lifted by a languishing breeze.    

Outside, sky displays splendid shades.  
a restless serrated state of 
radiant hopes and dreams.  
Each sunset softly sighs,  
calling me to places where time anchors.  
But here, the clock ticks loudly 
a wavering heartbeat trickles in my maw,  
a reassuring requiem reclaiming my roost,
tied to this tremendous toll.   

I dream of waveless shores,  
where Cerberus skulks cradle my bare feet,  
and the weight of Götterdämmerung melts  
with each tide that kisses the coast.  
There’s a netherworld waiting beyond walls,  
a pulse in the chest of a pariah.  
where silhouettes sway gracefully in the shimmer. 
and stillness sings in stygian shades. 

Chairs creak and chatter, as crashing bones 
while whispering words wane away 
as waves through a wobbly weave.  
Yearnings yielded, unveiled  
as a hexad quarry wander in the night  
I’m trapped in a miasma maze of thorns,  
each twist a reminder of detritus dreams   
each stuck breath a sobber scream  
for freedom, for anywhere but here.  

I gather harlequin shards of distant—  
starlit skies, moonlit whispers,  
mapping the stars on faded scraps of paper,  
where wanderers walk the lines to freedom,  
sneaking past the prison-pivoted doors, 
breathing deeply on the other side,  
as I yearn to yield and wander 
to savor the sphere splendidly  
and belong—oh, anywhere but this place.
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