Sometimes it’s in rhyme that I find you,

My dear,

Your edges outlined to remind me

That fear

Is enshrined in this shadow entwined

With my mirror

For the ego, in darkness, is kind

To my tears

It holds them with tenderness tined

By sharp leers

And wantings of wretchedness mined

From my ears

It’s unholy

How fully

I choose to believe

That these sweet hateful nothings

Were whispered to me

By some dark evil other

A sovereign being

Apart from my thoughts

And the light that I see

I run from you, darling,

Yet fast as I flee

You fly at my heels

You cannot be free

You need me

To be

And I need you

To see

For I am a child, so wild

And high

Drunk deep on a life that was styled

To die

A stairwell of stories stacked, filed

To try

And experience the all that is what

Without why

And so it’s in rhyme that I tell you,

My sweet,

I shall not swing an axe to fell you

At my feet

I’ll wish to your earth rooted well

When we greet

That we’ll render both heaven and hell

Obsolete

Let consciousness break this old spell

Find the beat

Then… Repeat

And repeat

And repeat

And repeat