A Sleepless Hour and Nearing Storm

In the late, sleepless hours of night, a meandering takes up form.
Whilst in the distance thunders peal and clear skies
Relent to storm—
Giving backdrop to fervent feelings
That much is not of goodly norm,
Nor the seeping reelings
Of a kingdom falling
With the entirety of its soul,
As those e'er trusted
Play a vile and ruthless role—
Shattering with ruinous deeds—
Its cornerstones.

When the eye tenderly looks away,
The head bow'd in shy disgrace,
Like the budding flower downturn'd;
The petals red, like the blushing face—
Evil will have learned,
Which beguiling smile may prevail,
Which pretty words lend thee sweep
Thy locks aside
And rest thee asleep,
Thy head in the soft down of cushion'd pride;
Thy alarms wrapt and silenc'd
In purposed arms,
As soft whispers fall
In lulls and lullaby-songs.
Where, when thou art rous'd awake,
Thou join'st the countless throngs;
Unabiding of the council of reason,
Thou wouldst become a tool of treason,
Blinded by the flattering colours shone before thy vanity
And the wrathful power of
A wielded disparity.
Thou lisp'st among the high,
Thou watch'st the lowly try to climb,
But with beauteous, graceful foot
And an armored heel
Push'st them down
And give'st up thy soul to feel
Forever a cruel power wound—
Within a frail frame
That but yesterday
Champion'd the poor,
The forsaken,
And held down
With rallying voice
That once won them choice,
And a voice to be heard
And deem'd worthy
And abiding in untarnish'd honor,
Where now thine is lost
At the cost of thy ruined
Family name and a withering fame,
Now known'st only well for naught
But shame.

Beware the attentive,
timely, charming stranger's smile.
Friends are more than sweet looks
And courtesies—free yet costly;
Comely with a dubiety earn'd,
Seen clear through the puissance of self
And a wise, unerring vigilance.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

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