Rendering the Impossible
Coming down slowly from the mists of a day
Wrought with uncertainty and peril,
Searing my hands in the lake of aggression that
Each morning rises to greet me like a phoenix
Of my own fears.
The windows of perception have closed and
With their locks I am bound.
On my page, I present the moments.
On my page, I design my escape.
On my page, I endeavor.
On my page, I render the impossible.
(c) 2003 Scot N. Kaeff