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