A Weary Poet

Lethargic verbs coax sleepy nouns along verses of poetry in the wee hours of the night. A flickering fluorescent Light tremulously glows its paleness above the weary poets head, each tremor depriving him sleep. The first rays of sunlight shine through the rooms window, devouring the artificial annoyance while his tired head slowly descends onto his outstretched left forearm; the pen still resting in his hand while his dreams devise completion.