Allen Steble (20/04/1987)
I feel the wintery breeze
beneath my cold bare feet
blowing of windy trees
among the forest's street
there is a narrow path of light
that guides me through that path of night.
I feel the scorched blanket of sand
Blisters welting upon my hands
pacing slowly and short of air
but I do press on bereft of care
the stars are clearest in the desert night
so I follow them sure, till the morning light.
Time is short, the hours are few
the blizzard of dark gives me a clue
as the storm draws nears me
it gets harder to move, difficult to see
yet there is a river of light
flowing into the ocean of night.
Let this light guide me
Through the darkened night.
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