The Truth About Tigers

Pencil poised above pristine white paper,
Primed to fulfill its sole, true calling.
Here it hovers, patient, awaiting command,
Ready to launch the creative assault.

But the rear echelon orders remain unspoken.
The mind, once a war room of strategy,
now seized by a sudden insurrection.

At ease, Number Two.
This turmoil will soon find resolution,
And we, like the French and Indians,
Shall mount our attack at dawn.