Ghastly apparitions fly at me from every direction.

My thought-processes have been interrupted since their inception;

I beg them to leave me be; I beg for intermission.

They contrive some sort of fanatical initiation,

but I refuse – although my mind is cluttered, it is still functional.


They fly at me more frantically for my refusal;

let them come at me – I am mighty, and ready to be victorious.

The battle seems overly-laborious

but I know that I have matured:

I am the mind – they must obey me – of that I am assured.


I know that at times like these, my heart, once singed,

must bow to my firey-furious intellect and sense.

I will know, at every occurrence as such, in times hence,

that I am not broken; not ruined; but merely unhinged.


© Annalinde Louw 2005

This piece was written on 28 September 2005
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