That beast awakens again tonight.
It smells my weakening will, and my confusion.
It smells them, and its appetite is aroused, after fasting for days.
It salivates at the thought of me;
at the thought of tasting me.
Sometimes all I have to do
Is stand firm glaring
Insist upon my place
And it will yield the path…
Notches on skin
Reminiscent of warriors of old…
I hope I’ll have so much more to say;
Maybe it’s all coming to the fore now?
The maximum speed of a pendulum
Is at the lowest point of its arc…
I want metal in my flesh and ink under my skin.
They must remember the loving-kindness, applied with fearless compassion.
Sometimes as I walk under balmy, cloudy night skies
I see a little orange glow wink into existence…
Pitch currents surging on the floor of my personal blue
Congeal on their own time coaxed by the watchful gaze of the other…