Tunnels dark and dreary. Running through the mountain.to the light at the other end. My body old and weary. Lean to break instead of bend.
Ever striving to reach the beaming light. Knowing friends wait at the other end. But of those blind and without sight.What of their prize? What do they win?
Where find they the tunnels end? What is their crime? What is their sin? Within a rhyme where questions begin. Try as you will, you still don't understand. There are limits to being a man.
Have you ever woken from a dream, as real as the day is long.So real, real is how it seemed. Yet Was it or was I wrong? Try as I might to understand. More questions is what I find. Teaching me the limits to being a man. Are only in his mind.
Originally Posted On Site: 2009-10-18 08:40:05
Last Login: 05.24.12
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