you say,
as you wait
for something to hit
you between
the empty
space between
your
spirit and soul.
The
threshold of my
tolerance has
hit a limit of
some sort.
Shatter
my expectation, why
don’t you? Trample
on my weak
flesh as it
wonders
around in
dark places trying
to find
balance between
the darkness hidden
and the
light peering
through the crumbs
of my
existence.
The rift,
getting wider seeks
something
that isn’t
available at the
moment.
The pulse
is getting stronger
now
that I become
sentient
of my
own
mortal decay.
Presumption has
been my
game
of trial
and error,
only to find
it’s
all mistaken.
Tolerance begs
me to wait,
to be still and
not
say a
word of angst
against
the reckoning of
my soldiers,
out there wondering
aimless.
The dredge
has pierced
dungeons of
the minds eye,
filling the brain with
clutter
from the worlds
that oppose
my
existence here in
this place
of
light and dark,
right and wrong,
truth and
falsehood, taking me
up and
then down
on this
rollercoaster
of reality, a dream
maybe, but
thought,
definitely,
Let it be so.