Spring?

[back_lit]

I awake, a weight upon me
A sole, sore soul upon me
A dream with gray poupon trees
And a wind like breath upon me
Blows its curious courier course
Around the nape and bight
And fright, I fall from fearful force
And fight my dream across the night.
With swords, a cling and clang,
'gainst hoards who sing but never sang
For lords, whose lands have been forgotten
Gone to seed and left for rotten
...