Sauntered Slumber Poem by Wright Palafox

Weary and cold, I’d teeter to and fro,
Within these woods, evergreen they’d grow,
Upon this grass, the mist it crept,
A bed of thorns from which I slept,

Memories fade, momentarily it seems,
Somehow obscured, this radiance, it gleams,
The grind of realism draws such cure,
Towards these woods, eternally impure,

A winding path, foliage adjacent,
My heels amble until complacent,
Ensnared within this dream confine,
Undergrowth eternal, as such labyrinthine,

A convivial haven for hearts afflicted,
Appeals to return, as such rejected,
Dazed and spellbound, my trail I’d pursue,
Unbeknownst to myself, a destination without you,

Now I fall into sauntered slumber,
Into never-ending realms of dismal fir,
Lurking upon those threadbare words then spoken,
I sleep tonight: torn…frayed…broken…