One Thing in Common

Like a moth
Chasing Fire
through closed windows
and fastened screen doors
You fly
for your desire,

But the fathers
we've been given
kill our instinct
and our passion
viewing dreams
as vile enemies
and hopes
like poisoned food.

Still you search,
venture forward--
Seeking a symbol
of what becomes you...
what you know
to be Truth.

Leave the venom
to the owners
who drink freely
from the gauntlet,
While your own
stand beside you
nodding quietly
in unspoken understanding.

And in the last dawn
While the moon is
slowly fading,
One small icon
will appear.