Still tired in spite of everything I have tried, my head <br />a dust-bag – miniature motes swirling within - the <br />slow whirlwind called my heartbeat growing weak, <br />wish I could sleep, one deep slumber to switch <br />my mind to a different wavelength <br /> <br />This thickness of being, sluggish like cold molasses, keeps <br />me lumbering through minefields of barbed-wire thoughts, <br />trying to break free just leads me to the darkness beyond <br />my eyeballs, all dreams focus on self-discipline, my child- <br />hood ideals haunting me <br /> <br />Did I learn patience, can I draw upon the strength of self- <br />discipline? Has my life been in vain, has all this exercise in <br />self-control been profitable - am I ready to tackle a new <br />form of existence in an astral realm where every thought <br />manifests without an intermediate phase <br /> <br />of slow becoming? Am I ready to move on from this sphere <br />where the only hope lies in visualisation of a new universe, <br />improving what-is to what-ought-to-be – though it is an <br />open question whether anyone else <br />would agree with my vision…<br /><br />Margaret Alice Second<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/agree-with-my-vision/
