Why did I create this world?

With its torturous curiosities

Demented absences

Of a wholly degenerate


Was it alpha or omega?

This world that assails me

With tremendous furies:

The acid rain of bitter scorn,

Laced with Protean fogs of


The excessive furrowing

Of one’s essential


Where is this ‘soul’?

Supposedly conversing

Like a hard-won bridge

Between Scylla

& Charybdis?


To ask, is to dislocate

From one’s ineffable core.

Yet in moments like these,

Seized by uncontrollable

Spirits of Mercurius,

One is beholden to ponder

On the origins of it all;

One’s ‘worldview’,

The utterly indescribable

Quintessence of one’s subjectivity.

The ‘I’ that is only an ‘I’

In relation to ‘Thou’.

Where I am only an I

Sempiternally in the mirror

Of your annihilating eyes.

 Where I die

And am forever reborn again

In the passing of a mere

Flicker of the stars,

In an overcast, moonless night sky.