Quivers

My hands are quivering

But not in anexiety, nor rage,

But in a broken dream;

A midnight's wanderings.

Ripped apart by dawn's early light

Trampled by my incompetence

And ruined by you , my foe;

A high dive of a kingdom.

That could never survive;

A mountain too high

To even contemplate climbing

And an isle of flightless birds

Awaiting a sail to to be saved