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
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