Poetry

Stanton PM

when silent nights in darkness dwell
beneath a moonless sky,
Night creatures crawl and oceans swell
to whisper, “I am I!”

and even when the mire descends
over a bright new dawn,
and inky lies blot out my eyes,
the world goes on and on

when neither hope nor stark despair
is hissing in my ear,
my feet still trod on fire and air
and whisper, “I am here!”

Though neither fate nor fortune’s fool,
a slave to mistress time-
though bound to battles long and cruel
I live; and so, I climb

when I have seen the dying light
that haunts no other man,
my blinding soul screams in the night:
I am, I am, I am

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