Listen to poem:
Tower
Imprisoned in thoughts at this midnight hour
All directions of the horizon, my eyes do scour
Searching for relief from this daunting power
At its base, however, could anything flower?
When black rain is the only moistening shower
Attacking demons, always looking to devour
My will, they be slain with intentional dour
Battling from my highest point, I will not cower
Never stopping, my intuitive will to empower
In time, will the keys I make release me from this Tower?
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