No MiStake

A flimsy, fleeting spark of fright,
A cluttered cloud of broken sight,
Forbidden climate's candlelight,
Can scatter truth and doubt incite.

The raging MonSter bares his claws;
He rises up and stomps his paws.
The MyStery, it looms because
The mad beast stands against all laws.

To pilot truth upon its trail,
To foster faith, our Holy Grail,
Emitting diamonds past the pale,
No simple sunny lines prevail.

A mere MiSnomer shakes the ground,
As ruMorS swirl the world around.
The faithful one is honorbound
To wait and watch the Lord astound.

A cup of wonder cannot cure,
Despite the finest connoisseur,
Who proves to be mere amateur.
When danger dares, he's yet unsure.

The image blurs; we cannot tell.
Is this a promise or farewell?
The MonSters roars, ill to propel,
But hope is whispering, "Do tell."

Make no MiStake. We make a choice.
Ignore the rumble, loudest voice.
Don't be deterred by dark decoys.
Your miracle awaits; rejoice.

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