Poemander

We've gone through this so many times,

I feel there's nothing left for me in here.

The world of fools and web of lies

How many lifetimes am I still to bear.

Please stop, beware, don't you say a word.

There is a melody in thoughts unspoken.

Awoken by the song of mockingbird,

I left them here, undivulged, unbroken.

Have not you woke inside the night

With deep, unjustified longing back at random?

This kingdom has us trapped by own right.

So free to flee, so dazed by freedom.

Oh, this is clearly a syndrome,

With eyes wide closed we looked up every symptom.

Inside the book of names we dug up every single tome,

But all we found was an empty space, pervasive boredom.

And is this where we're from, and is this where we're heading?

My answer is a germ, your dream is where it's spreading.

Its not at any rate, and not in any form

Constrained by your fate, affected by your meddling.

Like rendering in cuneiform, Interdimensional genome.

Not man-made grade, I'm renegade by social norm,

A nonconformist by the trade,

And exorcist by masquerade.

To persuade as razorblade, to dissuade like chloroform.

Let's call me escapist.

Trust, the reality of mine is not unlike the precipice,

Like cube to tesseract,

In fact, the words refract the mere act

Of balance finely tuned, indeed,

I'm taking here the next exit.

A wormhole, cosmo- psychic pit,

All mind, space and time contract in it.

And only emptiness deemed fit

While song still playing on repeat.