There is no destiny too small

“For all the world’s a stage”

And we all have parts to play

Too many minds are in a cage

They can’t hear what their hearts are trying to say

Mirrored images reflect silent

Shadows in the night

The dying of the light, too violent

To be captured in the conscious sight

But small wonders that should astound

Go by and by unnoticed

And die with out a sound

Candle wax that drips and falls

On the tattered pages of my book

A picture image of enchantment

That is permitted not a second look

But holds more beauty than a rose that thrives

Though that faded majesty survives

If only in my memory

The honored heroes trapped in stone

As if saints and angels dare to weep

Their holy congregation born

Of promises no man could keep

For beauty in it’s modern form

Consists of statues in the storm

For there in lies a nature dark

Of which we dare not speak

Tiny frailties leave no mark

Nor no glory seek

Poverished light that can not gleam

For the penalties we owe

And lies in the dark, afraid to dream

But as we beckon, will not go