Oh Master, it’s you again
shaking my brain awake
in the midnight hours
with sudden certainties
and driving needs to work.
Thoughts tracking their steps
through the sleepless hours
till I must rise and reboot
both body and machine
till notions give me rest
entrusted to digital record
their clamour ceased.
‘Tis not that I resent
the hours you keep
always your willing servant
but time and tide betray me
the body old and creaking
as I plant new footprints
upon the pristine page.
Sweet is the labour of your days
and easy the tasks you set
the sweat and pain so soon forgot
in the comfort of completion
and new babe’s soothing cries.
House Martell
Line count: 24, word count: 114
For "Game of Thrones" Westeros, Citadel Task 45
Prompt: Write a poem as a tribute to your craft of writing. Points: 2,000
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