The Age of the Rockrose

The Age of The Rockrose

==========

Chapter 1

Through the dim and dry woodland,

Complicated it may be,

Through crooked leaves and branches,

One could glance up at the stars,

Cloudy nights on fields of sand,

All but hopeless one would feel,

Each day lends us a challenge,

So to force cowardice scarce,

It is do or don't and die,

With regrets of unlived life,

Walk the road to existence,

Or lose the chance to become,

One could ponder through the night,

Searching their answer for "Why?"

Each would find some difference,

But the true meaning is one.

Chapter 2

Tyranny of illusions,

Or dictatorship of lies,

Whatever be our prison,

Hindering the sanity,

They strive to block intrusions,

Proof is hidden in plain sight,

Hired guns hunt the wisdom,

And vote social chastity,

All we could do has been done,

The final straw is burning,

The odds of freedom are trimmed,

Hope is a four-letter jest,

It turns meaningless to run,

Just as pointless as worry,

For all we've left to live is,

Consciousness in decadence.

Chapter 3

Starry curtains as background,

For a celestial mass,

Whose epicenter pulsates,

With a flow of cosmic force,

Gathering from all around,

Hoping sadness will not pass,

Soon or late it culminates,

Reborn as it was before,

Through lifetime after lifetime,

Said body falls and crumbles

Sometimes the chunks are rebuilt,

Or new pieces are added,

For old or young be likewise,

Explore a darkened tunnel,

Lighted by pure strength of will,

Past sins morph into malice.

Chapter 4

"Roy, stand tall", the hunter warned,

"Confederate soldiers come",

Marching lines in the distance,

Approached the hunter's homestead,

Mounted scouts, some of them armed,

Explained their search for his son,

From others he's different,

His raw talent was wanted,

"Young man, you must join with us,

For the country, play your part,

Or else be turned a martyr,

Thrown in a cell for treason",

Brave Roy found himself at loss,

Marksman's skill, musician's heart,

Thus his hands left the lyre,

To slay feds' opposition.

Chapter 5

Young at heart, with aging wit,

Two lives lived Oswald Jarvis,

Upper class social by day,

By night, philosopher's scribe,

Under the sun, he sees fit,

To unwind in life's pleasures,

Then, lighting a candle's flame,

He strives to write on moonlight,

Try as he might, he could not,

His thoughts blurred by temptation,

Mind speared by one fair maid's shine,

Brighter than the stars above,

To stay sane he fought, but lost,

Trapped in a new dimension,

Gone were nights of moon and sky,

Because now he wrote of love.

Chapter 6

My friend, what if I told you,

That you knew me more than I?

That all I can think of me,

Is not my true persona,

Be it from the things I do,

Or what else I try to hide,

It's you who will always be,

Lighting my darkest corners,

While some things remain buried,

You