Trapped Truth

the sun shines upon only a few,

in this life where all is not known,

and even less seen,

as the fallen seek retribution,

for lines crossed in the middle

of this warm hot night,

their souls forever searching

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 the 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;

this truth lies not trapped,

even if it could,

it is there where it has always been,

waiting for the weary travelers arrival,

like a jewel in the cold black ground;

there is more,

so much more,

than what stands before these eyes,

these ears,

these senses,

these faces;

these dreams.

.

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