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Inside the mind, the magic blooms
The stories of millions, twisting, looms
No focus, no fixture
No overall, bigger picture
The swirling mess of thoughts that sway
Deciding what I’ll write today
Let’s look into the whirling vortex
Let’s try to imagine what comes next
The smoking muzzle of a gun
The blazing heat of noon day sun
The band of adventurers on a quest
The fallen night who’s hiding west
The Troll king, Bligop, on his throne
The nightmare beast, Urzan, crunching bones
The Nevaravine in Oblivion
The dying youth, the carrion
The tragedy
The comedy
The romance
The drama
The monk, the prophet, and priest on a llama
The forests, the jungles, the caves, the castles
The ships lined in rows, the barons with vassals
The rambunctious kid with no cause but a mission
The blinded artist with the greatest vision
All locked up, trapped in one head
Waiting to be written, waiting to be read
But they swirl so fast, they’re so hard to see
There’s no time to get them out of me
But I’ll try, I must
For it’s all I can do
But remember why I write them
To entertain you
Bottled Frustrations
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Submitted on
May 26, 2008
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