Nostrum

they search for light,
mysterious, a whiteness promising
redemption, so they watch the skies, waiting
to be blessed, the form
unknown, the quake within
souls enough for eternity, one sip of
elixir a promise for, at least,
everlasting life; so buggy eyes
search like bobcats, their plans
nocturnal, sleepless nights
lead to days foundering in gloom,
the only jobs available
as clerks at hot dog stands,
their hopes hinged on stars,
their minds unhinged by thoughts
noxious to most,
but they accept without thinking,
their needs so sacred,
covered with mustard,
their thoughts so small,
so controlled,
the ketchup leaking,
their onion breath pushing
people away.