This plays off of several of Robert Frost’s most famous poems.
We won’t await the wakeful, they only know to rise.
We’re slipping through the under in ways the wary wise
Can only but despise when paralyzed by open eyes.
I’ve seen many ends and am glad for my demise.
Feel whatever fear you like, nightmares must be met.
They bring fire and ice, to destroy must be nice, let them set
Themselves upon themselves so threat goes down to threat.
We have no use for emptiness and will not join in debt.
We push the storming star up the morning stair.
The day must dawn, but as for us the passing there
Is not quite wrong yet still seems to give a scare.
Whatever commonness we share with half-imagined frights –