In A Golden Dawn

The rivers of our Inconscience meet the sea

Of our unknowing, we are the foam of tide,

Tossed by desire's waves relentlessly

Though oceans call and continents untried.

Our dreams are beached on cold unfriendly shores

And hope is washed away upon the sands,

Propelled by an inevitable force

The hours seem controlled by unseen hands.

Is there a soul yet born that has not known

The loneliness unbearable when love

Beyond this tenement of time has flown

To reaches inaccessible above?

But faith now sees what mind cannot conceive,

That soon in a golden dawn there shall descend

Such beauty that our hearts no more shall grieve

As trumpets clarion darkness' end.