Moribund
From beneath the black robe I appear
Eyes glued shut by the luminous light
My poetic muse dismissed as Hogwash
My rhyme as woeful as it sounded
Was written with the colossal belief
Of delivering a sense of warmth to all
In front I stand of the theatergoers
Head and palms moist as if bathed in water
Combating the vocal demons concealed in my throat
Poem’s words stirring around on my scroll
Forging what is to be insurmountable content
Then in a moribund state I managed to convey
My message of warmth to all whom would listen
Relieved I now stand, on to better dreams
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