Awoken and Wroten.
Yes,
I have awoken again;
To the morning tide and
Auriferous nebulae of
This plane.
Been somewhere, have I.
A journey, I've made.
Exciting, it was.
And ere, have I strayed.
These orbs which are windows,
Are opaque with that sleep.
Exciting, it was.
But rememberance goes . . .
Recedes, does it's tide,
Which deeply, didst pull
A mind from its eye,
And in vision,
Made full.
But the surface, below
Be dark and veneer
And beneath it, I know
Lies the truth, and my fear.
So I turn in this fear,
Of aqueous dark
And to this day, do I steer,
'Pon its course,
I embark.