Continuation from ROWY

This curse of mine does not ever seem to fade. I chalk this up to the "off season", but I know that I am only kidding myself. Will this ever end, while I am sane enough to know? My heart swells with joy at the misery brought to the surface. While, at the same time a terrible crushing feeling fills my chest. Some nights, like this, I feel that I am going mad. Right to the precipice of my sanity, right to the edge of my pain.

I dream the verse of masters long since dead. That ring with words written in my own voice. I see the images that they have construed and that I now see, but can not adequately define those thoughts to the page.

So, I limp along using only those words that convey a meaning to me. It is conveyed in the following poem. But, will you, the reader, see what I see? How can you really? Not knowing what I know, experienced that which I have, lived with demons that I have wrought.

My slumber awaits. I am hoping to see these images no more this night. To escape in folly.