The tempo builds,
a thousands waves rising together over my small body,
and the second before they fall,
the tenderest of touches hold me tight.
How many times can Maxwell kill,
before his royal hammer breaks,
and ends this endless torment inside my head?
Strapped tight in sanity and reality,
they haul us on the stage lights,
with ominous halos glowing over our heads.
It's the beat of a African drums,
when only laying your hand on the floor,
and the feeling of wings beating against a sweating back.
Incredibly deep KM. So much heartfelt emotion, beautifully poured out upon the page. Terrific poem...