My surging mind
Fierce energy
Blasting through its mirrored halls
Hemorrhaging
Weakening walls
Lightning bolt synapse
Welcoming collapse
Alas
It shall not come
For doom
The Ghost Dancer told me
Is only for the dead
A far cry
From my pounding head
And its written destiny
So share my thoughts
I must
So difficult to trust
The growing inspiration
Diverse amalgamation
Acceptance
Of this human nation
Quite fragile
Meek
Misled
Lost
Roaming
Filled with dread
Longing to be led
© Bill Grimes Jr. 2011
