Oh, will one only tell.
I worry and wait.
I can only be seen to the naked eye.
What am I that that runs and loves to such a delight?
I am the glory of the good tale that writes here before you today.
Embrace me with a gentle hug and surround me with a kept nod.
I am your conscience that you hear and you know all too well.
The friend in you that manipulates your very body and dances you around the room like a puppet on a stick.
Naked to the eye but makes a decision on your behalf.
The conscience that grows onto the light core of your bodily vastness.
Come to me with open arms and express what comes out to play.
Tomorrow I will bring you a direction from the North wind, and allow your sails to air out on the South sea.
Listen to a world unlike no other.
I bore a light that glowed in the dark tunnel of the mind, echoing my very presence into a nest of change.
As naked to the eye but very much alive and well my conscience will tell you a story.
Listen well as I whisper it to you now my friend.
