Morning Star

On the eve of a long battle
Desperate, King Shaul
On his sword lay down
Opposite the walls of ancient Sha'an.
At the end of a long business day,
No king or sword insight,
Locks of despair,
Bolts of gloom tightened up.
A cobweb glued intact,
Into crosswise of dreams and illusion.
Perspiration surfed
In endless line of expectation
For morning star
Web, Into glittering gold and diamonds chain convert
Flattened against fading black and shining blue
Becoming only for a ticking second
The virtue of the day.