from barn to bay
an outlet to our brain
everlasting peril and pain
my sleep will drain;
flee from the figth;
in a silent flight;
to recover the might;
no doubtful insight;
the first time
as scary as flight;
the truth is mine
might release your might...
glide with your wit
through the monsoon pit
where dreams are lit
and stars are still.
use YOUR feather.
