PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I danced on the outer perimeter of human awareness.  I stood at the edge of the cliff staring down into the abyss.  The devil dared me to take a leap.  “Have faith, my child and you will be saved.” But never to trust a man shrouded in cloves of garlic and cinnamon who promises gold & jewels in return for my soul.

Ah, that is such a gas!  The devil thinks his brand of magic to be greater than my soul.  My will is such I fear not that wrath.  I’m pondering the depths of his claim.  I will not swallow poison on  the advice of a charlatan.  No, I am perplexed by these disturbances.  What interference run?

I am not knowing the full reasoning behind these things.  The prophecies revealed to me by the fire of the midnight lamp yet come morning and the crack of dawn, I have forgotten.  So shadows in the night allude to friendship but give nothing.  The harlots no longer satisfy my insatiable lust.  The magnitude of my desire is ever increasing.

It is an inferno seeking several meals in one sitting; consuming magma and searching out anything to devour.  The possibility of falling over the edge is intriguing.  I entertain the idea of taking a blind leap into that abyss.  I wonder where it will lead me.  My imagination tries to invent a quasi-answer to the dilemma.

Thought rejects any weak attempts of distillation.  The liquor must be pure; pure as the soul of a saint; pure as the driven snow on an Alpine mountain.  The analogy disturbing to some but no remorse is felt on my part.  My blunted senses mutate into tiny subdivisions and I as the general try to mobilize the army.

I try to form a more perfect union and bring them together in full force.  But the limited resources available ot me are staggering.  Hence I shall prosper in the presence of the ghost.  Ah, but nonetheless the dancing on the edge continues—magic or insanity not yet known.