I'm trying to write more coherent poetry. Is it working?

Kimble


I wake as though I am sleeping
I sleep as if I were dead
Oft I speak aloud as if praying
Lest I commit treason instead.
I am not wishing for trumpets
Rather, I'm waiting for sin
To come on the legs of seduction
And transform the state that I'm in.
What I get is the clapping of thunder
And the feeling I'm lies wrapped in skin
The break-apart storm clouds of wonder
The sensation I'm where I begin.
Which is what I'm truly afraid of
That I can, in fact, change who I am,
That mistakes are all that I'm made of,
That I've always been out on the lam
To escape my own definition
A fugitive fleeing from grace
Scared of the future I'm racing,
Even more that I'll see my true face.