Poetic Psychology 101

I travel roads less wandered
to lands not touched by time
where dreams are never squandered
and verses always rhyme

Singing songs of walking
my words propel my feet
down streets where Elves go stalking
and sudden strangers meet

Past the mists of morning
beyond the realm of real
I stumble without warning
on what my thoughts reveal

A universe of make-believe
where mystic creatures dance
to music that the heart conceives
by giving in to chance

Where innocence can never die
and death can never live
'tis there my soul may justify
those deeds I can't forgive

C.  Lon  R.  Bruso