October 2, 2014
A crescent shaped vestige
reminds visitors of his last foe slain in battle:
An accidental lump of stubborn cells in his innocent brain,
removed but not all gone.
They say there’s a method to His madness
but tonight peace wouldn’t be possible without
point sixty five milligrams of Methadone – an opiate for the masses (in prescription form),
a loving uncle by his side – arms to feel safe within,
God, apparently – a parent I thought was buried for good.
A Zombie emerges from the grave
and a supernatural master plan
reveals itself to me,
or I construct a master plan
and change its source to be this God being,
There are two roads to pretend I’m walking:
A road of nothingness. Logical, reasonable, makes sense.
But it’s nothingness, all the same.
A road of fantasy. Divine, cruel, magical games.
But it’s fantasy, nonetheless.
For your sake and ours kiddo,
this better just be a Heavenly game.
No, we stubbornly insist
that what you’ve suffered in the past few weeks
must be part of a great divine plan,
for the life that’s been drained from your once-lively cheeks
needs to mean much more than a duel between
idiotic DNA Replication and the wonders of modern medicine.
Reason has no occupation within lost and afraid brains,
and we are lost right now,
so please You, show us a way.
for Alexey B.