The storm rages on,
an endless cycle.
Territory won and lost daily,
doomed to repeat.

Relentless waves of attack,
pounding upon steadfast walls
lined with tiny timbers,
encrusted in golden pebble-dash,  
the armour of Poseidon's minions
on display as grim defiance.

The tides of battle turn constantly,
but with each assault the fortress falters.
Foamy charges batter and breach,
tearing down the walls,
melting into nothing.

With just sand, sticks and shells left,
strewn over the battlefield,
the war is over...
Until, the next summer's day

Must I lay and wait here scheming,
While the world can drift off dreaming,
Of days filled with love and feeling.
I just glare up at the ceiling.

How I wish I could be sleeping,  
The clock ticks on, still time keeping.
Cars outside, horns are beeping,
Exasperated, almost weeping.

All the helplessness I'm feeling,
Devoid of reason and of meaning.
Oh I'd find it so appealing,
If I could just lay here dreaming.

Thats right, I took it!
Take it back if you want to,
I'll wait as you try.

For the drone that flies
quickest, fastest, straight and true,
the queen bee cares not

i ask mySelf why,
but hAVe no answErs, just ***.
now i reMembEr.

Folded precision,
from plain page to final form,
At last, I take flight