one eyed cat 13

the despairing worm which writhes under golden light

between the withered blade and the tombstone thistles where i lay me down

the inky night of a dark star to guide me

the shape of a pale rider beside me

the stupid hope you’ll be home soon here inside me

i grope towards the dangling truth but its so flexible

imperceptibly bent

i believe i will leave

when i leave then surely i will believe

i believe i can leave and leave it all behind

diamond lined mind of many faces

replaces a dwarf for slim chance

i dance in the margins

where the ichor oozes and hardens

in gardens of the blind surely you wander now

fonder however as you are of ham rather than what i am

yonder is bonding my wand to the distance

in this instance

at least

and all my insistence

i need no assistance