I woke in the morning
while the new day was in its infancy,
and began searching
for an item lost,
yet never truly possessed.
a rare coin,
a valuable asset to my soul.
I had no illumination.
Its prince holding me firmly in his grasp.
Pulling me below the horizon.
Into the shadows
cast in dark corners.
Existing only to defile the light.
One ray of hope.
One soft glimpse of morning light
reaches the plain wall
in the room in which my nights are spent.
And in its glow
I see hung from one rusted nail,
my rare coin,
copyright 2014 - Donald P James Jr