Searching out identity,
Who am I, and am I me?
These sparks of thought like flashing light
Portraying day but lost in night.
Is there radiance to share?
Or ought I sink into despair?
Can hope, or joy, or peace abound,
With sorrows crashing all around?
Like ocean waves that rise and fall,
The tempest rages in us all.
In this chaos and this pain,
Perhaps I ought not rise again.
I know not when I took up chains,
But truly, truly freedom wains.
Each loathsome burden rightly earned,
And yet has not my pathway turned.
I struggle in the fowler’s net,
Till to new roads these feet are set.
by Kevin Phillips