Mister Ryan Kelton. My mentor of sorts with a fierce poet’s heart
At this distance, I cannot see
What there is to do for you—
No matter how loud the siren-sound,
No matter how quick my pace to your floor,
I know it shall be silence to greet me at the door.
You unravel a carpet of red from your hands;
The well-worn path I tread where the best-laid
Plans have been cast down as ash in the hollow halls.
Here I am—in the midst of the maze you have built to deflect me—
Still, I am drawn on towards you, stung on by intentions
More pure and true than the price you place on your shoulders.