Within a ‘Wrought State of Time...’

 


These
troubled
corridors
of mind
has me
feelin’
wrought
in this
state
of time...

As like fire
thrust, ‘pon
forest’ layer
a Virus, befell
n’ thus scrapped
this bare...

Ethos told
of such a
‘willed race’
“shattered
glass” fallin’
everyplace...

Won’t one wish
upon a star, God
please send these
troubles away far...

So that I may
again soon see
a more alive WE...