24. The View From the Writer’s Window

I won’t show you what I see
you’re sure not to believe me.
My view is shrouded, clouded,
sad, and sweet and tragic packaged
in goofy, filled with more darkness
ridiculousness. There are dragons
outside my window. Dire wolves,
Huge, haunting, and lurking things,
dragging oversized knives, lugging
pyramid heads. Continuing in their
dreaded existence. Doomed to roam.
Because I caught them and kept them
here. These bringers of death and
destruction set to a sweet symphony
in a minor key. So come, play me a song
and I’ll trade you a tale. One that I
cannot promise you will like.
But one that will help you find something
that you didn’t know you kept hidden.
I am the one at the gate. I am the blue eye
in the window. Come and dance with me
Beneath the waves of my haunted ocean.

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