Brittle beaten warriors

Starlight swallows sense

There is an artistic shroud

That settles like star dust

Over the dark encrusted

Who seek a sample

Of Sanctuary

From the speckled light

Hoping for more than illumination

Entrusting a way

Towards a new and solid path.

If they can’t find it soon

Then can we share

Their scrap of hope

As the barrel bottom dregs

Creates moisture effigies

Of our misery

So that we can visualise

Our actualities

Whilst our spirits

Finally get the picture.

At some point

It’s prudent to hang hats

And embark on a new trail

Than persist in the face of futility.

If our egos will allow it.

A.J. LANGFORD