2An idea is glimpsed
Poor conceal in the depth of my mind
Though not convinced
With thought amplified I might find
A place where it may freely grow
The train runs slow
For the fear of being derailed
Enforcing a dim glow
Knowing heart’s open fire makes the failed
Whilst trying not to stem the creative flow
As fast as perceived
Darkness again eclipses without fight
A dream’s death is conceived
Trickles away gently as fading moonlight
And I must wait for a new seed to sew