A way and a means ...

Ancient mists are clearing

Lands awash with deceit
Hidden eyes in every nook; in every cranny
Every wall needs to be demolished
To eventually reach those rolling hills
That clearing spied from blue skies
Before the hawk settled on bough
and took rest from its flight on high
An image of the star settled on the lake
Awash with wonder ... piercing eyes ...
viewing remotely ... settled upon
and realised the deceit
Saw as the trail was engulfed
and all sense was lost
But kept in its mind the clarity of the fresh breeze
The memory of soaring on high
That truth led a way through hill and vale
Through brook and through copses of dense trees
Before eyes now that clearing
That truth ...
That same place from which it commenced
Because this labyrinth leads back to the start
It really was not what it appears ...
Washing his hands now ...
The mage in the cool lake waters
That sword thrown back into the depths
Angered by the fervour and the deceptions
He knows that symbolism played its hand here
A way and a means to sneak a change
Without the hedgerow faces realising
they had all been deceived ...
-- Matthew James --