I Know It’s Late

I know it’s late,
But this can’t wait,
My mania is caught,
Between the lines,
Of words and rhymes,
So here is every thought,
I must attest,
That night is best,
To gather feelings sought,
Where life’s refrain,
And sullen pain,
Wage wars that must be fought.

I know it’s late,
But rhythms rate,
Much better after dark,
My brain’s enlarged,
With neurons charged,
That pressure me to hark,
Just like a bird,
Whose call is heard,
Above the boisterous bark,
I must prevail,
For dreams set sail,
When heroes find their mark.

I know it’s late,
But words are great,
And oozing from my mind,
Sometimes I feel,
The madness wheel,
Has wound its final wind,
My tos and fros,
Are churning prose,
With chaos intertwined,
I’m tossed ashore,
From violent roar,
With freedoms left to find.

I know it’s late,
But this can’t wait,
My sweet capricious soul,
Is bounding fast,
Where feelings blast,
Towards the rabbit’s hole,
By writing you,
This subtle hue,
Of doggerel to scroll,
I often find,
My manic mind,
Can gain some lost control.

© The Complicated Bunny – 04 May 2023