Wings

Within imagination’s coldest caves
Resounds a righteous screech of flapping wings.
At night they overcome the conscious wave
And raise the outcomes of the day as king.
Embarking on adventures only seen
In hazed conditions; walk on through restless
Feats of wand’ring nights, those of great serene.
You can’t escape from them. You are helpless.
One day their skin shines with a pastel glow
Amongst an atmosphere of flow’ry gleam
Until smiles swoop down like weeping willows
Creating coal and oil in violet streams.
So whilst we toss between our cotton sheets
Dare not to undermine the dusk’s deceit.