Concealed

Dark places
Cannot be lit
only erased
by the cleansing
power of light

Empty faces
Won't change a bit
unless faced
with the healing
power of right

Seek to set free the lost
admire not the ribbon embossed
For fancy or bejeweled
a prison be
captive a captive
each lock for a key

Purple laces
gold thrones they sit
sweet first taste
hopeless feeling
sour of night

Home bases
anxiety's wit
Poison so laced
just beginning
Of endless fight

All rights reserved to James Martin Cox