Mosaic of these experiences, 

bless each hex that was attempted to vex me, 

witness: my ambition as a rook to each chess player designed to test me,

Lessen my path, no.

listen to my pain 

disguised and misguided as wrath, 

Reflection of the glass house I'm imprisoned in, 

such is the journey to find my light apparently placed within,

Piece to peace, 

and my piece to please,

May I not remain puzzled, 

it would seem one is laden with answers to unknown questions,

with dances and music unmentioned,

Shivers in the cold, 

and rivers of uncertainty: untold, 

I approach with caution, 

this ocean of life doesn't seem still with all this shaking and motion, 

it seems this mural is wavy.

The dream is to be Drenched 

 in calm against the storm,

So my mosaic might be wet enough to set my legacy,

 and the years shall not deliver scorn, 

And I may return home.

- consigliori.