For drook—
The jumbled babble of a fevered mind
is all that I can manage, for it seems
coherency departs when illness deems
to crumble walls so shoddily designed.
Inside the linen labyrinth that twists
about my frame, resistance is afoot,
inciting fierce defenders that will put
their lives at risk until the raid desists—
bestowing peace upon the realm once more,
releasing characters that heretofore
were languishing behind a dungeon door,
while peeking through the cracks the best they could,
determined to get free (they knew they would)
to help the race move forward as it should.
A unique biology lesson -- you have a gift for animating even the most obscure concepts (obscure, at least, to the layman).
ReplyDeleteSometimes our poetry reflects our real lives -- if that is the case here, I hope you feel better soon!
this is where it's at, i am glad you wrote this.
ReplyDeletesounds like a hell of a cold.
i have been slacking off too... the next poem in the series is... well... black narcissus... and it does not want to reveal easily.
i'm sure you can see why.
Hey guys, feeling much better now, thanks for the comments. drook you have definitely intrigued me now...
ReplyDelete