Where would I find shelter,

if suddenly every demon safely shadowed,

arose the horizon,

engulfing a moonlight surreal with trepidation.

How to survive such a ludicrous notion,

the idea of the human condition being put to test,

when all of our efforts

are a constant static,

a peaceful serenade to mellow the controversy,

of knowing who I really am outside the facade of my mechanical meaning.

 

Life is perhaps a leading suggestion,

we are the candidate,

the usurper of a certainty,

that part of survival camp we did dread,

yet years later we understood,

when faced with a greeting, a tender word, a harsh reality,

while all around us the motion continues,

we stand alone, speechless,

wondering just how we ever managed to find ourselves,

standing here close to the edge of our mortality.

 

And then, a gentle breeze, a moonlit romance, a quiet peace.