Amber Glistener

I sit upon this rock,
and stare up at the sky,
with brilliance the stars shine,
to recreate would be meaningless to try.
...

Can you hear me?
As I whisper your name.
When I pound my fists upon the pane.
When I scream out to you is it all in vain?
...

I am tightly sealed in a darkness,
Confined to the extreme,
where nobody hears me banging on the metal ceiling,
of the box that I lay in.
...

As an author I must realize,
All the things he has given me,
The love that surrounds my life,
The faith that inspires it.
...

The faint sound that rises in my dreams,
farther in the distance,
pushed back in my memory from a time far away,
a time that seems to never come.
...

The house is creaking in the night,
of that I am sure.
Underneath the floorboards are squeaking with no light,
A hypnotic kind of lure.
...

The wicked witch swings her axe,
It clangs against my skull,
I raise my sword to fight her back,
To find its blade is dull.
...

Everyone has a story,
but some are surly uncertain how to tell it.
In a way this can be a good thing.
Let others tell it for you.
...

Tired eyes watch the weary reflection of the soldier,
who walks without pride or judgment,
and fears none but God.
...

Could it get any more confusing?
I thought I had it cleared out.
The fog of my mind was just clearing,
and now it's thicker than ever.
...

Swords slashing,
thoughts dashing,
this is the way it should be.
...

Lost in a wonderland.
A place I never wish to leave.
Fog covers here in the morn.
The sun shines in the noon.
...

I pray for adventure.
It is my desire.
My passion and dream that one day it shall be.
My life, an adventure.
...

In this room full of hateful words and thrashing people,
I am alone.
In this world with no understanding and no certain path,
I am alone.
...

I stand here in this very room,
the fire blazing every nicely,
with the young and old all around me,
to tell the story that so many do not live to tell.
...

Hey you there with that cup of ale,
The things with that epic fail,
They will get you into jail,
Where you will get no mail,
...

The day rushes by too quickly,
people stumbling and tripping all a sudden,
its like a conveyor belt,
never stopping,
...

Eyes cannot prod or poke.
They cannot mock or jeer.
Eyes cannot push me around,
or beat me to the ground.
...

Save me,
from the pandemonium,
the evil causes,
people are possessed with hatred,
...

I'm searching for the beauty of the ages,
something so perfect and so fine,
a treasure and a pleasure,
the best throughout all time.
...