Sitting on the toilet crying
Letting it all out
The relief is baptismal
A revolution of spirit
Whatever is, nothing changes this
I am the master slave
Purged of all necessity
For a moment, I am truly me
An open universal conduit
Ready at last for the purpose
Fully armed and dangerous
I rise and lay waste to all around me
With an errant thought I reconstruct reality
In my image, as I see fit, at will
And then I open the door
YOU ARE READING
The word (a collection)
PoetryA collection of poetry. Short, longer. General, personal. Traditional and esoterical. Will add with time, as I sift through the random pile. Let me know if I accidentally double post anything :)
