Wordless Worry

Should the mind reject the phrase,
how could heads sink in malaise?

Were our thoughts unworded wrought
might the plea to be set free 
come down asleep on bedding ought
and not quite know the concept me?

Question quests and answer bones
might re-nest as sweetness tones
to carry tent upon intent
never know what may have meant.

Springing singing from the cage
wiling tilting out of rage
as the tune becomes a rune
boon gets turned upside the moon;

once an orb of lucid night
now our thistle whistle blight.