I Am Exiled... Poem by DM W

I am exiled from your world weary eyes.
I'm left only with my pen and my files.
So I must shape these sweet fragments of mine
Into some kind of noble life. The signs
Of doom hang in the air, but I know deep
Down inside that I must transcribe the dream
That we once shared before the darkness came.
Although we're in the hands of the insane,
The image and the word combined can free
Us from the grip of systems of cold steel.