Mesmeric Power Poem by Gerry Legister

Twinkling colored stars against silhouette horizon,
Mesmeric power, glide silently through the twilight space,
entices the ambiance between phantoms and incantation.
Feline notions resounding in our own feeble existence.

Stars pierce the night like magical priestly lights
Flames set on fire with claws that are Razor Sharp.
Rewards are known only to saints and druids' delights,
Chimes of forlorn tunes from a lightly played harp.

The mesmeric power is as dark as midnight hour,
Creating life tiptoe into the moonless alternative ground,
Where witches were burn and ashes from the urn scourer,
Make the mind chant aloud to every strange moving sound.

The sacred war starts the quest in protest and priestesses,
Is not the resourceful pain of hurt our last great stand?
Victory, against the dark seasons crossing with the crisis,
An Instagram of the moment gone when instant life began.

Our times moves further into deep unfettered thought,
Traveling plans ticking each hour like sand grains falling,
Make the muddle grow stronger in the beating heart.
Turning each ardent flame into the sullen reign of pain.

Mesmeric power burns past the time erasing the stain,
Through life, and strife, the warmth of hope awaits each day,
Shadows fade and end the spells we share unchained
With flames of joy the nectar of taste once gave away.

The lighter of days, revive soul opening the unmask door
Moments went, in time engulfed by promises lost in fear,
Feelings change with seasons that will never stay sour,
Faith changes the path of fate and wipes away every tear.