the quest

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sun rays
like laser
shoot through
motel blinds
as he lies
lifeless on a sweat
stained bed
awakened and
shaken,
hesitating
to open
bruised eyes.

still addicted
to the dark side
yearning for the light
and a clear head,
caught up between
a rock and revolution
trying to persuade
a whole generation
that their evolution
is not complete.

rather than throwing in
the towel of defeat,
he sits again
at the typwriter
chipping away at
the concrete
around the hearts
of the sheep
with a soul and
mind on fire
hydrating
this fierce desire
knowing he’ll
never retire
in this quest.

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