So long have I turned in fear.

My back to it I could not see

The roar of flames could I hear

No escape, it seemed for me.

Darkness beckoned,

Despair loomed,

Fire or nothing,

I seemed doomed.

So long have I turned from fear,

But some small courage stirred within,

So I turned towards my rear,

Confronting that which seared my skin.

Fire beckoned,

Heat consumed,

Blinded by light,

Again still doomed.

So long have I turned from fear,

To die, I must?  Let it be here,

No longer will I run from that,

Unseen force once on my back.

I will face this powerful foe,

Even if it be my woe,

Better to die at this powers hands,

Then end my life in those dark lands.

I opened my eyes, looked on my fate,

I screamed with all my rage and hate.

The fire grew stronger with all my rage,

Till I was surrounded by a flaming cage.

My rage did die, I accepted my end,

But to my wonder the fire did bend,

Before me, a figure, clad in flame,

He beckoned towards me and spoke my name.

“I am Greatness” he said to me,

“Strength and Purity, all one can be”

As he approached the flames, now ember,

What I saw I will always remember.

I saw myself, my full potential,

Standing before me in all his glory,

This next part he said was essential,

To pass on to all his message and story.

So long have I chased you,

But you could not see,

That you were always running,

From all that you could be.

So long have I turned from fear,

Fearing that which mattered most,

My full potential lay so near,

But I had feared to be his host.

No longer will we fear our demons,

They only exist in those dark lands,

No demon survives within the light,

Its power and strength are far too bright,

Face your fears, become your all,

No longer cower, stand up tall,

Find within, your greatest wealth,

To be your True, Authentic Self.

The Dreamer

O, what a lowly piece of rotting shit am I.

Is it not offensive, my heavenly muses of darkness,

That in all the earths of all possible worlds,

That I should defile this planet with my polluting shadow.

I see those with less fair looks,

Radiating with inner beauty.

But so vain am I, trapped by mine own visage.

Masking putrid depths of self-loathing.

I see those untouched by prividlege,

Rising from slums to societies summits,

Yet self-cursed am I by any advantage:

Corrupted blue-blood and over priced education.

I see the beauty in others:  Their curious minds:

Devouring books that litter my storage floor.

Dog-eared poetry their hands lovingly touch,

Words I commited to memory as grudging chore.

What do they see upon this earth that is plentiful?

Who are they to find possibility within?

How dare they make reality their dreams?

When I am the dreamer lost in despair.

What would they do with these visions of mine?

With the passion that burns the eye in my mind?

Would they rip out their heart and blot out their eyes?

Would they strangle their life and choke it with lies?

No. 

They would make heaven on earth and unite the race.

Bring peace, prosperity, beauty and grace.

The angels would weep for their job would be done.

Even demons from hell – to earth , peacefully, t’would come.

So why cannot I?  When endorsed by heaven and hell.

Make real these visions and wake from this spell?

Because I am the dreamer – limitlessly blest.

But can I wake from my slumber?  - my ultimate test.