Wrought-iron Stairs

Standing alone in a rain-filled pool,
Derived from a storm driven cloud,
Staring my reflections staring back at me,
Talking to my dreams and secrets vowed.

Your tear-full words to cleanse my soul,
Awaiting His mystical answers to part,
For in His hands shall my fate unfold,
To witness these dreams that break my heart.

My life’s now a book of missing pages,
That ripple in waters reflecting eyes,
Locked behind cold mindless cages,
Calling from the debts of ocean tides.

Innocent dreams of times remembered,
Points to those wrought-iron stairs,
Innocent minds like burning embers,
Close the eyes that hold back tears.

Carved initials on a dreary classroom desk,
The mark of a young child’s troubled times,
Yet smiles in the eyes of his dreamed request,
To win o’er his masters unmeasured crimes.

adthomas