Half Woken Yrteop

The sleeping dragon in my soul,
Awaits the darkness
At bid and toll.

Voices in me bellow deep,
What the old have sown
So shall I reap.

Thunder rings,
Lightning sings,
Static clings.

Open my wings.

Poetry flies from finger and tongue,
Holding out hope-
One day to be sung.

Standing at the end of time,
Lost and lingering,
With no hope but to rhyme.

I wrote it after waking up from a drug induced (sinus meds) slumber so give me a little credit that it at least has some semblance of flow. :) It’s not meant to be good, it’s not meant to be great. It’s just a bunch of words thrown together in a semi-happy little pile.

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