surrounded by crackling and snarling electrical currents of stress,
compressed by lifetimes of hopeful meditations & prayers,
all whilst the angelic madness of Schubert's Ave Maria
bleeds into the atmosphere between the realms of
my soul, my mind, and my being.
The curtains are drawn at the determined nocturnal hour,
ripped open at the painting of terror created,
screams running down the halls and jumping out the windows,
heart beats and headaches vibrating and reverberating incessantly
while once cold feather is turned over so the rock awaiting
provides unconditional support and embrace.
The distant thundering through the forest of timber;
silvered ash and darkened pine ringed 'round the
numinous glade which with neither beast nor man
marred by their sacrilegious breath and heretical thought -
here, this place bespot with natural bounty and grace sang forth
among the choir of unimaginable realities & phantasmagorical beauties.
"Here lies a man," the stone will read,
"a man whose madness made his life
a gallery of colors which no kingdom nor community-forged
god could contest. Here's a man whose love for that
which will destroy him, outweighs even his love for himself.
Here lies a man, certain of uncertainties, finally aware
of his own mortality."
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