Twisted Good

Monotony is one eternal round.

Frustration’s supply fills my oil lamp.

I put my light of anger on a hill

And know that it is a twisted good.

I meet with friends and family, and am

Filled with warmth from their light and love.

But righteousness becomes a destructive fire

And their beauty turns into betraying faults.

The light is divided from the dark,

Yet there is good in the horrible night.

The stars promise blessings upon blessings,

But destruction is the only counselor.

Twisted disfiguration cripples me.

The light bends, reflects, and blares in my eyes.

It turns people away, banishing them.

I am a martyr, and the fire burns.

There is nothing worthy of sacrifice,

Everything is offered, and it’s evil.

The twisted good is all that I have

Until little moments offer an alternative.

Glimmers of dew drops begin to brighten.

Magnificent mountains bring good tidings.

Sunsets and sunrises, moments sublime,

These are real inklings of the eternal.

Alas, I cannot always understand,

The glory and beauty in the natural.

But the light of the sun will fill my lamp,

And the peaceful mountains will be my hill.