My nights are filled with metaphoric dreams
They flood my sleep with hopes in which I drown
They’re flooded by what once were little streams
And hopeful tides arise as I sink down
I tread such nights within my nightmare fits
I’d swim, but there’s no land within my sight
I wish my dreams were nothing more than bits
Of similaic rain on stormy nights
I toss and turn within poetic seas
My words are waves that mock my gentle bed
Poseidon never hears my simple pleas
He only seems to want me cold and dead
And so I write my dreams in lyric verse
Like little songs I’m waking to rehearse.