I refuse to believe that this is all there is and ever will be –
Flash floods, spilled blood, and sunken ships lost at sea.
There’s only so much I can relay to chance,
Even Lazarus rose on the fourth day from ashes of dismay and defiance.
So too I say, with tolerant efficacy,
There is hope on the horizon for he
Who has faith in the unknown, and trusts in himself –
Right down to the core.
Nature realigns its course for the free spirit,
Who, when thrown upon the waves amid siren song,
Refuses to adhere to the pressures of the tide;
Which tear mere mortals up inside.
Steady is the rhythm sailed by the captain of his own vessel,
Content with seaborne reverie.
As the years take their toll, he knows,
This is not all there was and ever will be.
So too, I refuse to believe – that there is no calm after the storm;
For a man scorned by his own greed, cannot see clearly.
There is no need to erect walls upon the sand,
For when the dust settles, a levee is sure to form.
And it will protect those who have and always will refuse to conform.