A translucent light,
filters through without any fight.
As the world outside,
moves into night,
the world within sees dawn away.
Being bound is a state,
but not the ultimate fate.
The power to change,
to look past any blame,
straight into the problems eyes,
is what can give you the right,
to hold on steadfast to your
virtues and still move
across the stage,
not as a transparent ghost,
but the one who creates the toast.
A dream a day,
within,still keeps the
sunshine of may-
the bright and golden ray.
The orange of spring,
is never far away,
as like the early
sunset is the only way
to know,that it is a sleepy
throne,now we are aboard.
Yet seasons are fickle,
and man too,so.
So in a fickle world
of fickle ways,
all the hope that lasts,
is to be happy and not sore.
Albeit the hours under
the illusive darkness,
where for company
there is no one but the
self-the moment of truth
where in we all really know
we are good and that evil
resides and spreads
only when we eat its food.
When all is so mixed
and so stuck in unison,
which is the shadow,
when the light is away.
And so,something tries
to consume,
and eaten by it,
we fret and fume,
at the gloom
and still try to be breath
fresh air,when in fact,
we are covered by a cloud
of dusty mist.
Yet from within,
the belief will lead
you away,from the haze
and mystic rays.
The sun shall shine again
and in its warmth shall grow,
that which shall provide
shade for your shadow.
the light shines the brightest
