it is poetry week on LJ, happy poetry week

[psilogen]

we struggle, cold and hungry, for some peace
for each step forward, three more t'wards retreat
is this not how we few were born to be?
chained down by wrath, tied to our apathy?
for in a world of grays how can one draw
a picture wrought with colors, sketched in awe
above the hill shines down a light of glee
filter'd through panes of golden reverie
this beacon watches over all free men
and tempts them ever onwards 'till their end
so all will work for ages to be met
by loving family, friends, at that summit
and were it not for hope poured out in dreams
then none might ever earn the lives they seek