Sometimes it takes the sky to open my eyes
To what's shone, coming and wrong,
To what's bright, rich and right
Sometimes in the emptiness of the night
when I lie awake to your choir of snores,
I chase the Devils of idyllic futures and more,
I hear me in them, in laments of glory, such songs,
and watch the warm creep by from feelings thought ever gone,
it ends,
yet when I truly wake to the scarlet rise
through the smog and maze on the horizon
I realize that in the center of concrete bushes,
as the wind of doubt whoosh whooshes,
I'm standing awake in the circle of change and growth
And I've waded through the black sludge of failures malicious moat,
and now I see me
as the dirt's swill stills
and I look upon my face
for the first time without distaste
and know that between this mud
and the roaring horizons blaze
stands a champion here present,
self made.