No words to write, No tale to tell

Head floating in the air

No left or right, No heaven's hell

Such feeling, Oh, so rare

No words to jump, the page is clean

The poet eyes snoozing

Heart does not pump, won't make a scene

Don't worry he's not losing

Just need a time, to be back again

From the graveyard calling

By precise rhyme, and renewed pen

The poet's ideal morning...

July 11, 2017

Mysterious_aries