Awake


The sea-tossed ship: adrift, forlorn
With hull and captain's patience worn
Craving shores toward which to steer
To beach, to hide, to hasten morn

The Monsters now seem more severe
Than any time throughout the years
Each time an evil foe is downed
A new and vicious head appears

This treasure sought cannot be found
By eye of hawk or nose of hound
It drifts away like severed kite
Its keeper stranded, tied to ground

When once again I win the fight
I'll earn myself a brief respite
To fade, to rest, to wake at light
To war again tomorrow night

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