A campfire hidden by the camp am I.
My scattered friends, who kindled me in rain,
Can feel the frigid water-wind; I try
To feign content, yet none of them need feign.
I try to send my smoke in some direction
To find out other places, different lands;
I can't go up, for wind would add correction,
And sideways, camp has no expansion planned.
The night is somewhat lighter now, and though
The rain has weakened me, I still exist,
And plan to burn my brightest when the rest
Of camp has left, and took with it my woe.
For now I'll be as vivid as I can,
But never cease to ponder on my plan.

By: Ryan Rubin

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The Drunken Pilgrims

"Hey, maybe it's time to turn in for the night,"
said the one drunken man to the other,
"This desert is tiring; I'll soon lose my sight,
and in daylight, more path can be covered."

But the second drunk pilgrim fell clear off his horse
when he tried to reach out to the first,
And all he could say through his voice, old and coarse
was a sputtered nonsensical verse.

The first weary traveler saw this to mean
that a rest almost surely would suit them,
So that night they rested out under the stars,
where they thought only dreams could disturb them.

While sleeping, the pilgrims had many a visit
from angels, on God's holy mission,
Who stole from these men all their coffers could fit,
and then left them to their apparitions.

"Hey kid, you asleep?" asked the first drunken man
when the sun burned his eyelids awake.
"I'm awake," he replied , "and I dreamed that I ran
through wheat fields while my feet they did ache.

"Well, I ran through those fields till I fell to the ground,
and sat panting. I couldn't look up
and suddenly I could see nothing around,
all my senses just seemed to have stopped."

"Kid, hold just a moment," the first man said,
"I know it, I dreamed of it too!
Then God rose above, and the black turned bright red,
and He spoke to me right and true."

"He told me that this which we've both come to seek
is hardly within our reach
through our drinking and greed we've been proven so weak
that we can't any more Him beseech."

The kid only now could their strife understand
and slowly he rose to his feet
he then fell to his knees, rest his head in the sand
and tried to scream; but could only weep.

The first man then picked up his bottle and thought
long and hard before downing his drink
All their troubles they unto themselves had wrought
When they lay down and tried not to think.

By: Ryan Rubin

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