Stray-er

When shoot happens...

Newborn morning,
mildly aware,
oh, the despair...
which is coming!

Rough stead
big defoe,
have to go
'live or dead!

Stray blare
from unknown,
it's thy bone
cry a swear!

Tingly peace
ringing through,
a faded ado;
it may cease!

Fell asleep
moaning this:
"What an amiss..."
thy wounds deep!

Newborn morning
fresh start,
the pain depart
thy were corning!

Author's Note

The inspiration came from a mundane situation: Hitting your little toe by accident while walking distracted/sleepy. However, in the making of this poem, I decided to broad the meaning for the sake of abstraction. What do you think? It feels silly?