Incandescent Monsters

Thru the day of plod and toil

and beasts that turn one's blood to boil

grey faces pass in one big blur

but rarely one will cause a stir

A rumble somewhere deep below

a reflection of their blinding glow

a slap across the boredom's face

a shine, a smile, a touch of grace.

Nothing gives me joy like the incandescent monsters.

And in the evening, twilight fades

and the sky turns all those mournful shades

the sun has died, the light has gone,

reflections pass, and sorrow spawns

that one that held the key to all

that led me to the tragic fall

dashes through my weary head

and leaves me with the words unsaid

Nothing like the sadness missing incandescent monsters.

And then to bed in hopes to sleep

where mirrors wall and conclusions leap

I drift off and start to dream

misty narrative with lens of cream

So of course at four I wake

cold, alone I start to shake

I must face the nameless dread

of mistakes I've made with my own head

Nothing like the late night fear of incandescent monsters

At last its time and up I rise

tired yes, but to my surprise

my body glows just like the sun

and I will face another one

A day, a week, a month, a year

is but a road no one can steer

yet where my path is dest to go

is something Im still inclined to know

Nothing like the hope inspired by incandescent monsters.