A poem to ring a bell or confuse you.?

Tortuously the heels plodded the runway. Feet not so unhappy as their owner. A blistering sea, not of fire, but of breezes and crisp blue skies. How so? Torment real as day, but hidden as night. War in a peaceful city. Each and everyone snowglobes, storms in teacups. Orderly chaos? The happy disdain and the rested overwraught, what can be done with them? Internal affliction, bitter as it is hidden, the external reflection. Defining paradox. An answer desperately sought ultimately beyond reach in plain sight without the question it houses.