Terrible Insight
Deep understanding of iambic pentameter
Rhythm and rhyme and perfect composure
Covered in moonlight avoiding exposure
Treasured word buried deep in lore
Seeking some semblance of normality
Venturing utterance quietly
Eyes peering to discover
One more aspect and then another
She watches and she knows
Her memory fills with wisdom and worry
Her lips move with cold and then intent
She seeks to speak and hurry
She talks of the things best heard at night
When wrong has a hold over reason and right
All things shake with the fever of fright
And truth has nary a place to alight
Comfort pours over you
But you feel tired from its weight