for in dejection
and in hopeless render
on a shaky bastion
I’d write me a letter
two months and more than three
my reality, thine rosy thorn
down, in spiral, can thy see
in impression, was I forlorn
for now, I lay, curled, asleep
tumble dreading, in slippery slope
dreaming, hoping, I can leap
away, toward, in hint of hope
a number of moons, I’d count
a fortnight of five periods in rain
inklings of miseries, oh they mount
blot like ink, tattooed like pain
conquered even the hopefuls
a stretched out, foreboding reality
this land, roamed, by deceitful
now, a broken heart, have I thee
wish I may, the months, I’d skip
else, force embraced all dread
if I could only, through time, I’d leap
towards the time I’ve already med
not one person, would like to be
in the clutch of a weary heart
in wish, leap the future and see
jump in time, for anew, a start
