I am the wail that torments you
through darkest nights and cloudy days;
The scratches against your casement
in the melancholy phase of lunacy.
I am the storm-clouds that conceal enlightenment,
and the lightning that bursts through their seams.
I am the fear of the thunder,
the ego that shadows your dreams.
And yet, I am not all that I seem.
I am not quite all that you deem
wise. For I come in many a guise,
And materialise in the eyes of many.
I am perception -
a defiance of logic and reason.
I guess you could call me a treason
of outright lies and deception.
An inception of truth as metaphor.
I open the door to the labyrinth
of rewired synapses
and neurological relapses.
I blur the boundaries
of brain, mind and soul.
So that your thoughts float like ghost-trails,
(Through trenches of neurons),
to the coal that fuels your flames.
I am neither dead nor living
I am neither male nor female,
I am a tale, a legend,
an omnipresent alternative,
forged in the dregs of forgotten.
I exist in the in-between,
of the earth and all it's matter;
by years of sedimentary conditioning.
I am the rawness of infancy, of your childhood, and adolescence.
The substance of abstract thinking.
I am free from the influence of peers.
So squashed am I that I buckle
beneath the burden of adulthood,
and bleed into your very chromosomes.
I'll become a projection of the true...
Everything that you'll hope to redo,
and fail by means of their rejection.
For I am, I am, I am, I am...
that I AM...You!