My sanity hangs in the balance as I write.
I fill the page with a world born of darkness and light.
Of a universe centered at the very tips of my fingers.
It flows from my mind in smooth streams of conciousness
And as I imagine it now, the sparks of creation linger.
I leave the land of reality to enter a palace of inceptive creativity.
Further and further I push, demanding to bring to fruition all that I think
And without the rules of the solid Earth, nothing is an impossibility.
I am soaring through on gossamer wings powered by the energy of all good things.
There I remain letting the few strains of helplessness drift into the open botttomless air.
I am one with the madness, I am free from the sane.
In these strikingly fluorescent hours I let insanity conquer my brain.
For one night as I write,
I can flee from problems that corner me
At least until I put my pen down to will myself to sleep.