I fear the shadow lurking by the door
Between this world of waking and my dreams.
It stands, a sentry, guarding rich and poor
Alike. Prevent the mixing of the streams
Of light and dark, awareness in extremes,
Where truth and soul aligned still haven’t met.
This sentinel on guard, so thorough, seems
To hold all power close, lest we forget
That getting may be worse. When all is set
In motion from the universe’s first kiss,
Those meetings, chance and brief, leave us in debt
To whims of fate whose archers never miss
Their mark. We all are targets. Those above
The shadow masters guard the gates to love.