The Fortress In The Meadow

[IdeomotorPrisoner]

* I kinda lost rhyme and meter entirely when writing this. Restructured hours later with several addition edits.

The fortress' cornerstone was layed insane.
The fortress was built for sunshine in rain.

Chemicals were first, of body and mind.
Aloofness followed, to bury the line
Permiscuous was next and full of scandal
From the abyss searching all channels

A story can be told in secrets
Forever locked in nuance
A life can be led through unknown wreckage
Under veils of strata and affluence

Dissociated shadows will always play
Break their binds to be casted twice
One for plasticity and everyday function
The other goes dancing into the night

The fortress' structure was built distressed
The fortress was built for the joyfully depressed

The fortress was built with precision.
To only show composure and smile.
Well kept flowers, an outgoing gardener
Projecting nothing but its prestige.

An opulent country house on the meadow
Beside the vineyard along the creek
No fortress to be seen among such beauty
The wooden fence and a patch of trees

Rolling foothills fade into the horizon
A faint mountain range obscured by haze
Power lines run parallel to the highway
This world of beauty is all you gaze

A story can be filtered through secrets
Forever obscured in its misdirection
A life can be led in unseen tragedy
Under veils of composure and perfection

The fortress' structure was built distressed
The fortress was built for the willfully repressed

Past Inaction has never been kind
When out of sight is out of mind
To be as silent as panic will allow
To hope you don't matter this round

Another life falls into this trap
Escape is only worth a laugh.
A cruel design to pass down trauma
To lose itself through waste and drama.

The shards of glass perpetually strewn
Are for tip-toeing around the room
For hoping it won't happen in vain.
For locking it up in a timestamp of pain

[xpert11]

IdeomotorPrisoner, thanks for the thought-provoking read.

[putnam6]

Thought-provoking and full of contradictions, mirrors our world... beautifully written

Reminds me of my Dad's reading the "Hellbound Train" to his pre-teen kids as we got ready for bed.

I can see him opening the blue book... all 4 of us scrunched together with our full attention

I'll ask my siblings if they remember, good memories... thanks for that...IP

It was such a departure, Dad would usually tell us work stories or tell us about a movie Mom and he just saw. 

He practically acted out "Young Frankenstein" late one night. 

 I think he was teaching us the world isn't always fun and games on poem night

[quintessentone]

"Don't judge a book by it's cover" comes to mind. Wonderful writing.