From The Lab

Starlight

Grudgingly, the populace settles,
And society is left with its confusion,
The chosen few, those delicate petals,
That thrive on the thorny vine's intrusion
In solitude, where the goals are made clear,
To clean an industry of its pollution.

An unseen power within the chosen,
Given by forces thrice unknown,
Locked in time, so often frozen,
Until talent grows wings and has flown,
Tested against the winds of the public,
Tempests of critique, still to be blown.

With necessary leaps of faith,
Against better judgement, appalled
At the comfortably rancid, bitter taste
Of total defeat and the loss of all
Confidence to soar with the clouds,
Braced to endure that possible fall.

Sharpen all weapons, the pen and the brush,
And prepare your dogs for war,
Secure an anchor in the seas of mistrust,
And work hard to paddle ashore,
Where fame and greed stand hand in hand,
But resist the temptations of more.

Through song or picture, original work,
Through painting and story or sonnet,
The difficulty of creating a first,
The medicine of minds, a soul's tonic,
That glow of the few who, for all or nothing,
Can grab hold of the tail of the comet.