They keep a-coming,
They keep a-flocking,
They keep a-flying
Into the light.
They keep a-burning,
They keep a-blaming,
They keep a-blowing
The candle out.
The rare glimpse of what could be,
The rare sight of clarity,
The rare hope that draws them in,
Their fear greater than all sin.
Be careful, dears
And please observe:
The gain is great
And loss? Beyond hurt.
A disturbing poem that hints at dark forces and grand illusions.
ReplyDeleteThere is something of both in all of us.