amateur poet

the 2'nd Saturday of the 3'rd moon in the year of our lord 1991
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A Transistion to Turmoil

Where there once was order, now chaos again reigns.
How feeble is life when confronted by the question of mortality?

Thoughts and ideas float like globules in the serene liquid that is our existence,
however, as the clear blue water is bleached by reality,
the contents of our active mind is dissolved into the ether.

Upon entering the domain of our unconsciousness,
these sparks of creativity seep into the realm of the physical,
and take form as glimpses of what might be, or what might have been.
When the hand of our emotions grab hold of what we perceive,
the perspective of our selves on our selves are altered and distorted,
until clarity dawns.

The clarity of a mind in panic lingers and festers like an infection,
by which there are no antidotes, no medicine, no relief.

The process of self-re-evaluation cannot stop nor can it be stopped by any
other than the redefinition of our own person,
and what it reveals might prove more terrifying than anything previously encountered.
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