The background comes together slowly, made from bits of headache and lingering sleepiness,
A stray emotion from a movie scene, and some constrained memories;
Blue wind blowing over low hills, with a distant Grecian temple.
In the foreground are many hormones, so tiring to me and contributing to every feeling here,
Represented as red spikes and hard geometric figures.
Opposite these is a hardened tree, standing firm for what I see,
As right.
And flowing across the very bottom of the page, is a happy brook,
Calming the hormones, watering the tree, and giving life to the image.
Today the tree fights to see clearly, but the hills seem steep, and the wind is cold,
The temple so sweet and the memories calling,
Chemicals burn.
But the water soothes, and sings its song and draws the tree away,
The sky is dark but the break of day,
Is coming.