"Ambitions and the Dead"

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"Ambitions and the Dead"



 The cold night breeze gently blows

And tosses aside this black shroud

Unveiling shadows trying to hide their true frames

From a world they have lost touch with.


Strangers, you might want to call them

Held bound in a twisted faith.

Straining to reach a light

Shining far away in the horizon.


Quietness sits calmly in this darkness

While thoughts war with eachother

Outburst, screaming and screeching sounds

Like wheels out of control on a highway.


The man lies there without life

His heart wrenched by a famished spirit

Living within his bossom

Starved by his quest to be and to have 


Death is a path way to a long dark silence

Of the human soul, and its freedom

From all the chains he put on himself

In his quest to be like the living he dreads






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