Wednesday, March 7, 2012

waking in a tent

the golden mist of morning
marches against the
melancholy solitude
sparkle shine
against these canvas walls
walls erected in bold
defiance of nature
fall over my cloth castle
let the heat of your great siege engine
make my fortress most unpleasant
i will not be moved
these walls
will not be moved
(except by a slight breeze)
shake my fist at the morning
hide myself from the light
slither deeper into my cocoon
darkness found within
drifting back
welcome land of dreams
but curse you bladder
for you have betrayed me

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