In wielding words, a power lies 
for launching souls into the air,
like birds who soar to mountains high 
and cloudy ringéd cliff tops spy
there gasping in the heady 
mountain air, for joy of bursting.

And from the airy mountain keeps
the words like thunderbolt of fire – 
dive down to skim the waters deep
reflecting stormy clouds that seep
in writhing agony that weeps 
and rends the heart that reads them.

They stir the heart in stillness cold
resting on tomb of passions lost.
To love again, of courage bold 
and speak the golden words of old
Illuminating strangeness folded dim 
within its quav’ring pages.

True lies and false truths it can tell
Of hope deferred and beauty fell
Foreboding driving upward, wells
despair that withers soul to shell.
Until the lies with true truth clash,
to claim dominion of the mind,

with iron-handed elegance, contending 
‘til the victor wins its due.

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This one is a bit dramatic, but I’ve been rereading The Lord of the Rings, so sue me. I hope you find it as cathartic as I do, lol.