On page as fresh a winter's breeze is found
It seeps inside a mind through strange facades
Harsh truths and prophecy sing kind ballade
A book is more than symbols tightly bound.
The screams adjoin a crowd who can't accept
Intolerant the voices from afar
Burning words as if it kills a memoir
Unfeeling people claim they never wept.
We know the truth or think that one exists
A world aswirl with jargon, myth, and tale
Beyond us all, we do the best we can.
Write it down to form a vivid resist
The scales from eyes will fall and then unveil
A hope for those who fear to choose unban.
I love this phrase of your poem, very nice sonnet friend, greetings ☺
I appreciate the hard work of working within such a structure, and your boundary-less word choice. Creates a kind of dream-fever like vibe. I loved catching the occasional internal rhyme too: "We know the truth or think that one exists | A world aswirl with jargon, myth..." Thanks for sharing your work!