Baronhawk's Nest

I seek a bed of solace,
after all the tell tale deeds.
The grueling nights that kept pace,
with the gentle rolling dreams.

I sought for a branch,
of an olive hue.
To strike a balance,
from both the bitter and the crude.

All I found are handles,
on which to grip and hold same.
In the unending battle between the poetic,
and the reality of the sane.

I turn to ideals,
values and precepts,
ancient codes
that present values intercept.

But found only shadows,
sadness and despair,
amidst the truth
that I can never accept.

I look for God,
and the put on vestments of faith.
But found naught,
of His virtues still in place.

Then I found you,
and I knew the true measure of grace.
The truth is out there,
in your beauty, touch and gait.