The Lynx Song
On that night, wet-cold and dark Pursued by the hellhound's bark, the hopeless soul, a shelter seeking running stumbling while thinking:
"Am I lost forevermore? I've nothing left to live for. Not a story left to tell, Not a song out of this hell."
But as a flash thunderclapped, felt I was no more entrapped. Deliverance gently came with kind words and heat of flame.
Was at the snowtrail, standing by, the graciousest lynx I ever eyed. And time bowed, to hang a while when he sang with a smile.
Stars showed up, silver and gold as the song quenched all the cold. And the charming lynx, old forest dweller, charm-bounded the storyteller.
All the creatures came to see, stunned, allured, like they should be. And as the lynx gazed across, they cursed envying by their loss.
"Thou smile caught in glimpse of light freezes time and chains the sight. While the gentlest voice from worlds gone-long conducts a sweetly stirring song"
"Thy fire burns and yet it heals, with auburn eyes that swiftly deals. Thou'rt the ever known finest tale. I beg'ye, inspire me with stunning gale."
Grace signs in words and deeds, giving the soul what it needs. Beautifuly touching a heart condemned, bracing, inspiring the chosen hand.
For the lynx sings the song of love, winding one to heaven above. Or drowning the unworthy in their own pride with pulling force of a great tide.
Magical waves of song resounds and through kindly spell to a lifetime bounds. But the lynx voice is like the moonlight as a song. And to no man the moon shall belong.
