The shattered glass
Of soundproof walls
That can block the night no more
Is scattered, alas,
On the broken stillness
Of a distant, darkened shore.

L.S. Hartfield

Mots clés we-cannot-turn-around

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All is il­lu­sion; noth­ing is re­al.
There are no true win­dows or halls.
The doors are not there and they can't hold the light.
My life's not con­tained in these walls.

L.S. Hartfield

Mots clés illusions

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I look in­to the star­lit night,
And beck­on to a dream
Within a world of masks and faces
Of all we see and seem.

L.S. Hartfield

Mots clés dreams

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But are my foot­steps silent?
Are they just holes with­in the sand?
Or does an­oth­er hear them, follow,
And find me where I am?

L.S. Hartfield

Mots clés footsteps

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A beau­ti­ful girl in a love­ly world
Touches the stars and her wings unfurl.

L.S. Hartfield

Mots clés fairyworld

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