Rapture calling! at the cistern well...
Do you remember how far you fell?
Airy fingers pluck the chords of your discontent,
and disperse the smoking anger you must vent.
Harp not your voice must ever be,
a tempest born to torment me?
Enchanting angel, a larks sweet song,
can't we all just get along?
Pilfered lives the cherub cost
returns to find their image lost.
What shrouded thoughts were used to bind
the malcontent to tokens kind?
Shaded hues of those not free
will break their chains of mediocrity!