Power of Rhyme

Everyone has a calling,
An ardor in which they squander their time;
For me it is verse that catches my falling.
Such is the power of rhyme.

Words carry us away
To the reveries of tomorrow.
They guide us through the days,
Push us past the arms of sorrow.

They can express the joy,
Or the melancholy we embrace.
It is so simple to make words our toy,
Using them to traverse a bridge to a far off place.

The world is such a desolate place,
At least from time to time;
When too petrified to take it on face to face,
I turn to my rhyme.

The words can sooth,
Cleanse the psyche and heart.
When I have something to prove,
The cadence is always the start.

Once upon a time,
I encountered defeat.
I turned to my rhyme,
In the face of deceit.

I found myself missing,
Split from feeling emotion―
My heart went fishing,
A wobbly ship adrift on the ocean.

I tried to unearth something consummate,
But it is hard to grapple perfection.
It was too little too late,
And I lost to rejection.

The walls came tumbling down,
The world just took a halt;
Every smile evolved into a frown.
I thought it was my fault.

In the nadir of my abyss,
I turned to my rhyme.
I was stranded in an apocalypse,
Running out of time.

I etched my heart into paper,
And my feelings swam to the shallows.
My depression slowly began to taper,
My heart beat was no longer fallow.

The labyrinth of life
Is often too hard for a human to comprehend.
When we are buried so heavily in malice and strife,
We can never find ways to ascend.

There is a secret to solving this mystery,
Veiled within the pen,
An escape from impending history.
It is as simple as remember when.

The taste of ink
Freshly laid out in lines
Can really make someone think,
Help purify our minds.

When we slam the brakes,
But the wheels refuse to stop,
When we get the shakes
We can just feel our hearts drop.

This is when we feel alone,
We become a vacuum inside.
We feel like the whole time we should of known,
Everything was nothing more than a lie.

Where can one turn,
When everywhere we look all we find is hate?
When the loneliness just burns and burns,
We struggle to find a way to relate.

Within the rhyme,
We can find our own purity.
Time after time,
We know our secrets are locked tight in our own sense of security.

We sometimes have trouble telling a friend,
For sometimes secrets become a grudge,
But with paper we need not play pretend.
It will never judge.

Hindrances may try to derail our train,
When we discuss how we feel,
But in our rhyme we articulate our brain,
Liberate all of our zeal.

There is always a reason,
Since there is always something to say.
It does not matter the time of season,
Since rhyme is universal in an immense way.

We can use it to combat our doubt,
Or to express our disarray.
It does not matter what it is about,
But rather what happened that day.

Like the water that can soak,
Or the people that we blame,
Your feelings can be free like smoke,
Floating over flame.

We can write it all away,
The tales of our lows and prime.
There is no reason to pray
When we can trust in the power of rhyme.