My Soul

The light at tunnel’s end draws ever nearer in darkness to me,
Stepping into light of day I remember the dream always starts this way,
All-consuming the brightness devours the glee from that which is me,
Merging in the clear blue sky I see the now familiar birds of prey.

Like the mocking bird they cry when in our need our creed entwine,
They had encapsulated all the sky the ground the day and night of me,
Yet I care not for their ill-omened tone – nor for the news they bring in time,
Like frozen white dice from high above their eyes come crashing into me.

Running in fright form their terror growing in my mind,
My soul if found shall be torn into that from which one can never recover,
I hide and fight yet in the end it’s me they find,
Yearning for that which is now lost, I awake once more to discover.

Terrible the truth that money could provide all I required in greed,
…Yet it could not provide that which I sold in need.

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