LITMATIE

he stars align as I descend into madness, I am spiralling, I am blind to despair’s conniving plan, Can the damned be saved?

I seek guidance from the Ancient Teacher

But, the sky is empty, The Bible is empathy.

I am blessed with mastery over pen and word, Yet, I am in the clouds Surrounded by nature‘s fellows. I cling on to my sanity, But, how do you hold onto a mirage?

Creation is fragile, Do you understand me?

A thought arrives and makes itself at home, It makes no sense,

This possession of power may not be real, Static clogs the membrane surrounding my thoughts. It is my divine right to whisper in vain, Blessed are the beautiful, And fruitful are the poets that roam the realms. It is futile,

I do not understand this juvenile insanity.

I know better, I seek clarity in a subservient reality, This is a forlorn attempt. I do not know better. They cry out, I am the daughter of Cain.

I refuse to visit Eden, The weeds have overstayed their welcome,