WHICH IS MINE?
LIKE THE JAWS OF A GREAT WHITE SHARK,THE REALITY
OF LIFE'S TRAGEDYS CLAMPS
DOWN ON MY MIND TEARING AND RIPPING IT INTO A
WILD AND TANGLED MASS OF RAGE
AND CONFUSION.BLOWING BITTERLY THRU MY CONSCIOUS
SOUL AS DO FLESH SEARING
ARCTIC WINDS.MY HEART HAS TURNED HYPOTHERMIC FROM
TRAGEDY,THE BLOOD THICKENS
TO SLUSH,MY WILL WEAKENS,WHILE MY FEARS
STRENGTHEN.I HAVE BEEN MOLDED INTO A
WALKING CADAVRES;COLD TO THE TOUCH OF ANOTHER'S
HEART.
TRIUMPH SPEWS JUBILENCE FROM THE HEART;WHICH IN
TURN GIVES MY CONSCIOUS SOUL
WINGS UPON WHICH IT TAKES FLIGHT AMONG DRIFTING
CLOUDS OF PURE PUFFED
WHITE.THE FLIGHT OF THE SOUL CARRIES A GOLDEN
GIFT OF PRIDE,AND
ACCOMPLISHMENT,THAT ULTIMATELY RESULTS IN A
NOURISHING MEAL OF WHAT THE
CONSCIUOS AND SUB-CONSCIOUS REALMS OF MY MIND
CONSIDER SELF ESTEEM.
WHY DO I CHOOSE TRAGEDY?
Mike Kloeckner