In times of dreaded darkness, silence, dearth

of happy hopes and dreams of future fate,

when wound-round thought destroys the timid earth

which guides each footfall, heavy, to its place,

and souls, endampened, shudder at the fall

and rising of each law-ground star above,

engorged with worries burning out at all

the days and nights a-passing in its love -

ah, such a foe no reason can upend,

for darkness, white-washed hopes and haven tracks

ensorcel us, strip off what reason's rend

may qualify, replacing pow'r with wax.

For to become ensorcelled is to try

to find a beauty reason passes by.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A ramble from a couple of months back... started out descriptive until I found my conclusion.

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