Friday, 24 January 2014

Insomnia



Duels, treacherous yet fought forever inside,
Malignant and fetid with dead thoughts,
Unburnt, reproduced at ceremonious will,
With the strange retribution of a wish which is ill,
Or a plain surge of lost words inside the mind.

The disarray of unclosed eyes and restless mind,
Often violently inflamed by countless chants,
Chants that the mind plays, over and over to chain
the untamed beast that roams in commanding liberty,
Who shreds the nerves that pursue smiles and magnify arts,
Which until now kept the beast carefully inside.

Perhaps the events began with a fusion,
A fusion of a fearsome dogma with a created cult,
Destruction of all goodness stands at paramount priority,
Put to blame are the mistake that produced guilt,
Or unaccounted traces of self doubt, both of which
Strangle the senses. They are wasted between
the sites of production and the targets of action.

Eyes turn crimson, blood clots in the brain,
The fear spreads through, colonizing whole.

1 comment:

  1. Present moment doesn't seem to hold much sway in the muddy darkness mid night. The regrets of the past and fears of the future seem to have all the power. I appreciate the way you convey this. "crimson eyes and blood clots in the brain"

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