Ascending, this ethereal blackness
I have floated up to the throne of a god
In this solemnity I can see it all:
A child laughing carelessly
A teen addressed in insecurity
An adult who dreams of being free
A world in disorder
A map of warred borders
A web of disasters
But a globe filled with laughter, and light
A state where sometimes, a man doesn’t have to fight
For what he believes
This is my responsibility
To assume the lofty mantle
To sift to man a psyche he can handle
Without this constant insanity
But then – what am I?
Does every god have to answer the question;
Do I have the right to answer?
Can man ever be in peace?
"To sift to man a psyche he can handle"
ReplyDeleteI adore that line :)
Keep writing, babe. I'm keeping reading, and you're freaking AMAZING.
<3