Sunglasses

If you need proof that every soul

Is at war with itself,

Look no further than your sunglasses.

That in the darkest hour of night

We pray for dawn to break

To chase the shadows away

And illuminate your spirit.

What do you do?

What have I done?

That dearest beseeched ray of day

Finally hops the fence and is found

To be too damn brilliant

Too sharp and discerning to tolerate

It stings the eyes and scorches the skin.

I wear sunglasses,

Keep my foot in both camps

For darkness threatens to smother

And light threatens to burn me

So I stay in the middle.

So you see we are all of us

Creatures afflicted by division,

Fallen spirits trying to float upwards

While still clinging to the ground,

The best gymnast of the heart

Can’t do the splits that well.

Trash your Oakley’s

Nobody can serve two masters.

– Vagabond Prophet