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.
repairs upon my soul;
let the mouths of heaven open…
let the refreshing tones from them roll.
May the restoration begin – and remain out of my control.
Your return is prohibited
It’s late at night,
rain drips outside my window.
The spectrum will soon turn to light;
another day’s passed – what have I to show?
I reach into the darkness:
the murky pool of black distortion
turns into my likeness:
a blur of hazy misproportion.