Mind Melt
He drifts through an artificial paradise
Engineered by his own undoing
Unshakeable, yet fastened to the wrong path
Doom to solitude on his island universe.
In his mind, a magical growth blooms,
As the golden light pulses, blinding and distorted,
Fragments of his life swell into fragile patterns,
Before his field of view turns gray—
An overcast, swirling, collapsing into a bottomless pit
The fields of light now ash,
The finite shades of difference dissolve,
His vast horizon shrinks to watertight valves,
Reduced to a naked existence.
He adores the terror of his abstraction,
Quivering under pressure
Waiting for the voice of the Great Spirit.
His is an apocalypse in motion,
Transfigured,
Chasing timeless bliss as he dissolves into oblivion.
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