Averlaine's musings

For those of you whom ire burns in your breast, nestled in comfortable sarcastic jest
Some express beauty through photography, less visual arts there are also to see
Examine a rhythm with cadence supplied, tattooed to one's mind is all but implied
Sinew and bone cut to document mine, cannot you simply examine to find?

For all of you who are aware of the lie, who seek the truth but then never try
The misery you think that you brought to bear, upon every naked and sheltering pair
Between the dream that you once woke upon, and dreamers that you're always wanting to shun
In turn, you cry when you think no one sees, for you have lost most of your sense of me

For all of you who would prefer to wage war, than risk losing people or things you adore
Let loose the arrows of fortunes not told, you have the choice to be or not bold
Chasing a mystery might let you think, whatever else, you may hide in a drink
Try or do not, it's a thought in the deep, that carries you on into dreamless a sleep

For all of you who don't know what you want, let tides wash you over, some magical font
Dream of the world you would like soon to see, take fevered schemes and let them roam free
Wish on that star that becomes a bright spark, know not the nightingale sings, but the lark
When you awake, let the surface then break, and drink in the mysteries locked in the lake

For all of you who are afraid of tomorrow, prefer to avoid what you think will cause sorrow
Maybe the ghosts of the past haunt your dreams, you might just discover air works as a team
Time will march on, as the sun starts to dim, heedless of neither caprice nor whim
Now barely hearing the pleas for the day, Winter is here as so many now say

For all of you who are yet to respond, perhaps because you just fear to correspond
If dreamers you are, worry less of intent, and see if the focus of life is misspent
The rest comprehend more practical things, but sometimes need only relax and to sing
Whatever the path that you choose now to take, remember to compromise only what aches

For anyone else who may wish to know me, I am elusive, an apostrophe
Often misused and oft misunderstood, I take as a compliment how rarely they would
Taken together with pauses unfurled, breathe life into sentences throughout the world
A mystery one faint may try to resolve, left only in riddles, the key to involve