The Plexus of Worth

serenity saves, i would ask if it's so
i would wander and worry and gander and glow
i would howl at the heroes and reach out a plea
is there some kind of sage inside beseeching me?

we calculate naturally, pants on the go
little markers of makings that mix up the flow
and it's power empowers through tick-tocks of hours
and solely but shrewdly it coldly devours
so wake the One Spirit we beckon you gravely
if not the light savior then darkness enslaves me
and how then or why, the whole question remains
are we lost in the hills or hung up in the reigns?

truly ambivalent sources would carry the song of good tide as the apothecary
of trust and endurance for each one's own hold on the breath and the breach of the young man grown old.
for reaching out heartily brimmed with thanksgiving is nearing the plexus of worth we are living so settle your madness to even the plays of the vessel we implicate seething through days.