Words, I summon you wherever you may be
in the dark chambers in the dungeon of the mind.
Oh, the immensity of the task at hand,
stinging phrases together into a tapestry called poem.
Do they lurk within me in the shadows of my thoughts,
awaiting the transformation into rich language?
When will the dawn break when I will sit diligently at a desk
as words pour from my pen without hesitation?
When will the night fall when I can boast of a complete work?
I beg of thee, pour from my pencil on this very day.
Flood the awaiting page with your overwhelming presence
and ring through the air with your grace,
so that I may rest at last.
in the dark chambers in the dungeon of the mind.
Oh, the immensity of the task at hand,
stinging phrases together into a tapestry called poem.
Do they lurk within me in the shadows of my thoughts,
awaiting the transformation into rich language?
When will the dawn break when I will sit diligently at a desk
as words pour from my pen without hesitation?
When will the night fall when I can boast of a complete work?
I beg of thee, pour from my pencil on this very day.
Flood the awaiting page with your overwhelming presence
and ring through the air with your grace,
so that I may rest at last.
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