Half Woken Yrteop
November 25th, 2009
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.
i like happy little piles of words :)
Lol. :D I love piles of words in general- the happier they are the better.