A reverie my eyes have kept,
Although perhaps I never slept.
Somehow the secret inward crept.
The wall was broken, shattered through,
With bricks and borders tossed askew.
How easy, then, to misconstrue.
As I refilled each bullet hole,
Each sling of mortar took its toll.
And losses leaned for leading role.
But toppling towers need not crash.
Distilling doubts may skip the splash.
The secret may lie in the ash.
Sometimes a nightmare is ideal.
It offers us a way to heal,
For fear to flee and truth reveal.
Yea, dauntings are not all we deem.
And sorrow, once it lets off steam,
May show a way loss to redeem.
Perhaps I had but just to dream.
c2013 by Linda Ann Nickerson
All rights reserved
c2013 by Linda Ann Nickerson
All rights reserved
Image/s:
Attacking the Tower
USF ClipArt
Public Domain
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Very intense and well done!
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