Ma Bête Noir

Ma Bête Noir

Like secret whispers just beyond,
Like voices through a wall,
I strain to hear their messages ~
The words too lightly fall;

Like madness, in a mirror seen,
An image almost free,
These whispers, hidden gems conceal,
Murmur insanity;

Caressingly a gentle song
Into my brain comes soft,
A balm of hope, a light of life ~
And Desolation’s lost;

My Muse allows a Melody
To tease my Soul alive;
My Muse denies me Words of Truth,
Yet on for Truth I strive.

© ACG
01 June 2006