At what height of all that peaked,
where I once in of all those
tenses that took me places,
was it in dreams. . .
was it in vivid and lucid REM’s. . .
were it a visual aide that had me,
I’d know to come back from
where I knew that Virgil protected by his utterance,
Only Dante can surmise and landed upon an age ago.
Only were it the first, or the last I was,
when I were there among with the gifted.
. . .
open your mind
shut your mouth
listen with eyes
taste with your ears.
Silence begets wisdom from the heart.
gods of old and new touches and gives the touch,
of their love for you,
not the enmity you give.
Focus enough of that past.
This lich will fester on the cancer of the mind,
thus enter its vampiric force onto my heart in kind,
only life will be drained enough,
not to start, that in each day
never to think
what is in need,
to be sane.