Overthought

As the wind passes through the leaves on a cold drizzling night,

I sense myself within the arms of thought.

A feeling of which I tend to hush.

A flash of reflection creeps around like the slither of a snake

as I sit in complete serenity and composure.

It is now when the demons of bewilderment grin in satisfaction

As for their intent concludes.

Oh great owl lend me your wisdom

For it is I who perceives the glass half-full.

Allow me within the eyes who tell a million stories

And guide me to the land of elucidation