Whose tears could calm a raging storm
And whose last breathe utter words that spoke only of peace
Dream a dream that was held by the melody
Of a broken priceless music box
Revered for its unforgettable lullaby that made the world itself dream
For as we are, we only wait patiently for our own doom
But what lies after such tragic things is still unknown
Thus hope is made relevant to most
And of most, in their lives, hopeful lies stand as so
If only dire souls would listen…
For it’s a song composed by the ancient ones
That plays over and over in nature
With a silent tone that we are all too deaf to hear,
Together are we forever ignorant to,
Still, this oblivion allows us to not believe
That of those things which once made us smile
To be that which belongs to unknown lies
Fables, manifested by the music singing from nature’s hopeless fantasies
Left dying like a man tone deaf to this world
Hearing only a lullaby revered by the melody of tears as priceless
Like the unforgettable calmness that came after that raging storm
Yet towards a fading last breathe tragically uttered in silence
A man believed to understand his own final words of peace
So, A grin he gave to the life that was nothing more than a broken dream…
~ Paradise’s Poet ~
