Horizon

I found this poem dotted onto a sun-bleached hankerchief that was kept on the dashboard of a massive rusty tractor-trailer with an inordinate amount of spikes. The name of the poem is

Horizon

I've been trapped in a prison of faces,
all of them look just like mine:
hollow eyes for empty places-
masks for shame and wistful smiles.

Round and round I make my paces,
the door unbarred to gall my pride,
no chains could chafe or be more hated
as those that hold me back inside.

A ruined street, a single rebel,
the stage stands still for my ticking heart,
my wardens approach and cast long shadows,
my will and hopes to quickly thwart.

But Lo! I'm headed for a new horizon,
opening below the virgin sky,
gold-white salt flats and a dawn vermillion,
rise up to meet me as I travel by!

Dawns turn to days that turn to midnight,
and I fear my resolve may flicker,
Lord that I might travel towards your light,
and travel stronger, quicker!

There was a bowl of bracken water
in my prison, foul to taste.
And though it seems this desert empty-
I know I pass from strength to strength.

In my dungeon the air was breathless,
and black the ceiling hung low to crush me,
Here I gaze into infinity,
pursue the endless with felicity,
feel the winds caress and kiss me,
and chart my progress by the stars.

Lo, I see a new horizon!
A desert golden-white and bare,
some say I will die of thirst
in pursuit of empty air.

Others that I should have never left,
my prison was in fact a haven;
better to be poisoned, broken, craven,
than wander to an early death.

But I believe in new horizons
just beyond the reach of human eyes
and I will gladly traverse this desert
until it lead me to paradise.