This Glorious Game Poem by Richard Wlodarski

There's a stone-cold fire in the warm fireplace
Forever reminding me of my resting place
Eternal flames burning a hole in my soul
Breathing new life into my existing role

There's a fearless wind in the midnight sky
Forever blowing not knowing how to die
A full moon beckons to the wolf in me
Trying desperately to set me free

There's a lonesome road ahead
Deserted wraiths left for dead
Heartbreak Hotel...a mirage...one more mile to goal
Comfort for the stirring of this lifeless soul

Anger fear sadness grief sorrow...be aware
Remnants of ghosts strewn along the road of despair
Reminders of so many wasted days and wasted nights
Shadows remaining in darkness searching for brighter lights

There's a burning flame in the embers of my being
Director of this wondrous movie of novel living
The ultimate adventure of mind over matter
In which Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung batter and scatter

There's eternal life where once there was darkness...
And the tongue of light glows with so much brightness...
And I see Carl Jung and Hermann Hesse playing the glass bead game...
And the hole in my soul is whole again in this glorious game