the shitty morning piece

So many things swimming in my head
Floating in an ethereal pool like the souls
Of lost ideas waiting in the pits to be freed
Making their trek to the castle across the stream
Locked in time above the fogs
Stroke, stroke, stroke
I’ll make it halfway and watch from the shoreline
Staring out as the sun lays with the horizon
To regale us with stories of the day since passed
Spirits now lost become strands of the yarn they spin
An epitaph to keep them eternal
Lie upon the fiery embers and burn
Into memory fodder
Wisplike and fleeting and curtly forgotten
Are these things swimming in my head