The petrified monarch in wistful smoke,
Is draped in haze of cloudy moons abreast,
You stand an archetype in lonely skies,
Man's striving for an immortality,
So calcified and shadowing the life as night the day.

Insurmounted trials lay behind,
The gracious solace of night,
A refuge of sleep and bastion of hope,
My strength sustained by grace will raise again at dawn.

Poemetise my vocabulary,
And it's ductile to my pinching claws,
I warp and worbble words galore,
I write in sounds and whispered thoughts,
It's left me looking at it merry.