The little alien cried - then cool grey resignation
took over so, like a machine, I relayed two short
texts, into English; to be checked & polished by
two of our most revered administrators who love
language as a product of edict & strict regulation
& thus look forward to heaven as a thick book of
legislation while I dream of heaven as freedom
Meantime a soft mist of fatigue sifts down my
mind and encloses my feelings in safe bubbles
which keep them out of sight so only the red-hot
motivation remains & everything else is unreal
the concept of time is bent, the fabric of reality
is ripped and only smoky pathways glimmer
like far-off lighting showing the road ahead
One of these probable smoky pathways will
be chosen as reality and see my tears when
taking leave of my child; thereafter I shall be
reconciled & live life as required - resetting
my course by the lodestar of love and still
continuing my search for the pearly sheen
of sweet, safeguarding Wisdom
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