Within each shattered shadowed soul
a blinding binding light may grow
when tribulation takes its toll
in ways naught but the dying know.
We live eternity each day
aware of what most will ignore,
that in the end we have no say
when ends life's narrow corridor.
An omnipresent spirit's real,
begging that we keep in mind
the gratitude for wounds that heal,
and lead us down our selves to find
what words we whistle in the dark
to walk through fears which leave their mark.