It’s in between
the eyes
and the mind,
this subtle disconnection.
Seeing what must be believed,
so deceived.
The treasure rests in beauty,
cannot be conceived.
I was ready
for the next thing;
some unforgettable event.
Tried the elixir
and over the edge I went.
Such a perfect picture,
taken in the wind,
distorted and bent.
My eyes were telling me a lie.
My mind wanted to believe it,
so badly.
Am I going mad?
Was I ever sane?
I was just a boy,
now I just remain;
moving in circles,
lost in spirals,
sinking deeper in my soul.
I am a question,
not an answer;
I am not in my control.
Simplistic reasons,
dreaming demons.
Angels,
in the rays of the Sun,
peek through my window.
In the hedgerow
I have found a loaded gun.
Talking makes it
make less sense than
it made when it I spoke in thoughts.
These are just a
lie your eyes are
believing
you haven’t caught
on
yet.
To my little riddle,
that is my heart
and my soul.
Do I stay,
or do I go?
If I go;
where?
I could stay here,
riding thermals
in the sun,
or just sit here
writing riddles,
telling jokes
and shooting guns.
I can’t erase these words.
They’re here forever, now.
I’m conscious they exist,
but I don’t care anyhow.
You’re being deceived
by your own eyes
and you’re so desperate to believe,
you just as lost
as I am.
HG – 2017