Every word whispered, like wind through my hair.
So much to focus on, so much to study,
Yet quiet and fatigue sing me a lullaby,
Drowning me in, so sound and deep,
As the whole world falls asleep.
As my mind continues to wander,
To the things that I admire,
I picture my future, clear,
My wheels, on fire.
Fueled by relentless desire,
Stepping out in expensive attire,
With a confidence that inspires.
As I continue to ponder,
Thoughts racing in the shower,
Like I’ve unlocked the power,
A badass undercover,
Watching the wide city from a tall tower.
I am not a wilting flower—
No need for luck, no four-leaf clover,
No need for a lover—
Those feelings are sour,
Those days are over,
I’m done with the hour.
My imagination runs wild, never tired,
Like there’s nothing to consider,
When my present’s got problems to figure.
Believe me, this isn’t a satire.
Every word I scribble,
Feels like a riddle,
An unsolved puzzle,
A never-ending fable.
Quaking, unstable,
Scary as a danger whistle,
Calm as a gentle cradle,
Haunting, yet awakening,
Inspiration, slowly drifting.
I gazed at the script,
Caught and caged in the crypt.
I trip and slip—no guidance, no tip,
Dark and sad, I've lost my grip.
I sat upon the jagged shore,
Like a lion, the raging waves roar.
The heavens break, the storm begins to pour,
As I etch a tale of legends evermore,
A saga of battles fought, of victories galore.
Echoing through the ages, from times of yore,
A story of triumph, a timeless folklore.
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