Trapped Truth

the sun shines upon only a few,

in this life where all is not known,

and even less seen,

as the fallen come seeking retribution,

for lines crossed in the middle

of this warm, hot night,

their souls forever searching and lost,

among shadows of the past,

a mortgage upon tomorrow,

without down payment,

a reconciliation

for which there is no cost;

we have but a short time my friend,

in which this song may be heard,

just a soft, white, light away,

from brighter, shinier days of gold,

an end to this cosmic comedy,

where so many hide away,

within smiling faces of

gracious gratitude;

words that smell of the truth they seek,

are but a stones throw from the edge,

a ripple upon the water of this

tempestuous time,

which stretches forth,

like an endless unsettled,

sweltering tide;

tell them this truth lies not trapped,

even if it could,

tell them it is there,

where it has always been,

waiting for the weary travelers arrival,

like a jewel in the cold black ground;

tell them that there is more,

so much more,

than what stands before these eyes,

these ears,

these senses,

these faces;

these dreams.

.

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