By Selia Qynn 12/12/2000


Thru twisted limbs and broken trees,
Where shadows scream in agony,
An angry wind through fallen leaves
Murmurs fateful whisperings.

These mortal storms hold me at bay
Threatening my life and limb.
The icy whistle in my ears
Must be a cosmic wind.

My fickle body trembles
From the chilling of the blast.
The gargoyle guards the garden gate,
And will not let me pass.

Isn't fear the strangest thing?
It needs no reason why.
To hold your soul a hostage,
Or tell you any lie.

And so I am it's captive
Here in this prison cell.
How to escape escapes me.
Under such a spell.

I get a chill, I get a sense
Of something almost imminent.
A thousand plagues in one cocoon.
Threatening impending doom.

And there amid the danger,
Most curious I find,
In the face of life or death,
The best of faith is blind.

So, hope becomes my savior,
A garment flowing free.
If I could only touch the hem,
I know I would believe.

Faith or hope, I wonder?
Sleepily I muse.
Moments ago they were the same,
And now I am confused.

Isn't faith the strangest thing?
It needs no reason why.
To believe that heaven opens up,
And grace falls from the sky.

Yes, hope is unrelenting.
It begs you to believe.
A thousand pardons in one kiss.
No reason now to grieve.

I get a thrill, I get a sense
Of something almost imminent
Looming in the distant void
Like the promise of impending joy.