The Thinker

On cold and lonely nights, When time holds no delights, The thinker cannot sleep, Though silence may be deep. The soft wind and the moon Both glide away and soon He’s haunted by the might Of man’s eternal fight. Dim light rays beam on down As diamonds on a crown, And yet he cannot see How hope might set him free. Much easier instead Is following the thread Of man’s unstable will Life’s purpose to fulfill: To wrestle in the storm, Rejoice for being born, To rise above the world, Subdue his lust for gold, To keep his banner tall, Rise stronger from each fall, And in the depths to find The essence of his mind: Strength, power, love and peace When hope and love decrease, When there’s no rest or sleep, Though silence may be deep. Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com