Escapist’s Letter

It was a serein and not a rain

Covered, they slept 

Under the excuse of their inability 

To differentiate…

Selcouth psithurism gently brushed

An elflock, which probably 

Lacked an existence, 

Or it might have been an irusu

Yet the scarlet of the aurora was faded

It was time for everything to be alive

And liveliness was not there in the air...

The reward of me waking up

Amidst a sleeping world

Was nothing but oneirataxia

A fernweh embraced me 

Hiding in the mask of anthrophobia 

Novaturient were my decisions 

Vividly encouraged by akrasia...

I was then a wayfarer with coddiwomple 

Something somewhere, in some corner 

Was waiting for me 

To give it the name of trouvaille

And also the reason

Which made me a noceur was waiting 

For me to whelve it ….

I don’t know if they would

Ever come searching for me 

Or if they would simply forget

It was going to be uncertain, I had to 

Absquatulate...