Repose Poem by Wyatt Epple

A struggle as the sun hath always risen
Across the somber vision of my brain
I loathe to leave the warmth of my gentle prison
For the unseen, hectic battlefield again.
'Tis not fear, 'tis not worry
'Tis but a simple satisfaction of soul
Though contentment's view may oft' be blurry
My heart does surely feel it to be whole.
First and last, contempt to leave and longing to return
I scorn the moments I must spend away
The hours and hours I miss, I only learn
To live but stronger through the putrid fray.
Now, though it is the nightfall, 'tis but the springtime warm
I long to see the One, most comforting in form.

(3/14/11)