If I can't dream
It does seem,
I'm constantly
And inadvertently,
Searching
Lurching,
For the difference
Preference,
Between the day
And it's decay,
The night
And it's dark flight,
Towards the sun
Flaming bullets of a gun,
Scathing the premise
Of my demise,
Unable to surrender
The greatest pretender,
Left to grieve
Though alive, bereave,
The ballad of steps
No longer visible in sand nor steppes,
At my side, curbside, seaside
Yet I can't run and hide,
Only thing I know is to fight
Another day another night,
And though the reasons
Be unknown, they'll come like seasons,
Once again; though I know not when,
But by then, I hope I'll have a pen...
© okpoet