Five minutes more extends to thirty
Negotiating with time
leads to unfavorable chimes
If I snooze half an hour
I lose my morning misty shower.
My ovine sheath
along
with my silkworm helm
is my defense
against the blitzing winds
of garuda—The howls
of fenrir
breach my snow-bombarded bay
windows, on this red winter day.
But defense
alone
does not win wars—
I ought to unsheathe
myself.
I toss my quilted scabbard
aside,
and it murmurs, fold me, please.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.05 seconds at 12:10pm on Nov 18, 2024 via server WEBX1.