Ravel

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There is madness,

madness,

in my blood.

The sun is astoundingly brilliant,

It’s warmth all encompassing,

My skin is lit on fire,

Simmering,

like millions of tiny diamond particles,

and the sky,

the sky,

Blue like a robin’s egg.

I look to the world and see endless possibilities,

My vision,

My work,

so true,

so pure,

Omnipotent.

I leap,

soar,

into the arms of wonder.

Life is beautified.

Then,

unwarranted,

elation slips into trenches of deep emptiness.

I feel Pain.

unyielding,

permeating deep into my bones.

His hands,

crippling,

Cold.

My world becomes

dark,

cynical.

I no longer see the luminosity of my work.

Vision,

Abandoned.

In a frenzy,

I tear,

the incompetence,

the indifference,

the vile,

to

s

h

r

e

a

d

s.

There is madness,

madness,

in my blood.

I lay here

in a pool of ragged,

torn

pieces of

defilement.

Spent.

I sleep.

In a pool of my life’s blood.

Oh, Madness, Madness.

There is madness,

in my blood.

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