Have I been wrong all this while?
Should I have done something different?
Should I change everything now?
Have I rejected wonderland for hell?
If yes, can I go back? Can I undo the past?
If no, how long can I go on this way?
It hurts! It pains! It stings!
The past claws at me,
And my faith grows weak.
How long can I go on,
Without a sign?

Why do you keep me alive,
In pain? Why am I not dead?
I do not understand your wisdom.
Why am I dragged in chains,
Through the filth of the world?
What purpose are you driving at?
Why do you treat me so? Do you not
Believe I will rise in anger the moment my
Cage is unlocked, my
Manacles are opened?
Or do you believe by this I will
Learn some Principle as yet unseen?
Do not hide the future in this mist!
Why do you tempt me?
Can I not tear everything down,
Even at this moment?
Why are you so certain?
Why must I be tested in blindness?
Can I not know a bit, see a bit?
Can I not glimpse a bit of that which
I fight for, so that I may
Rely less on faith alone?

Last night, I had a terrible vision.
(Maybe it was something I ate,
something I read, something I felt)
But I saw
Broken bodies lined up in bridges, over
Chasms of fire and molten rock.
I sweltered in the suffocating smoke,
Choked on the overpowering stench, the
Constant groaning and moaning, the
Laments that rend the air, and my heart.
This was not some other world, some
Fictional world, some
Past world.
No, this was the present world,
Collapsed, somehow folded up,
Distilled, only making visible that
Which was hidden.

On the back of the beast,
Being tossed around,
Finding the right moment to strike,
To still it,
To save
My world.

My Facebook feed lies empty,
I have no one to poke.
I took reluctantly to Twitter;
So far it's been a joke!
My Tumblr account was built
From a theme right off the shelf
And I found nothing -- nothing!
When I tried to Google myself.

Some days are sunshine
Some days are stone
Some days it hurts more,
Right down to the bone.

Turned and twisted out of shape,
I stagger away from the inferno,
When I come face to face with another,
My eyes staring into hollow sockets.
What apparition is this?
It's bony finger points the way
To a hollow opening.
I emerge into a
Vast cave,
Illuminated,
Where cloaked figures are
Conjuring up new forms
To replace what remains of the old.
"Is there no escape
From the wasteland?", I ask.
The solemn figures continue,
Mournfully,
Seriously.
The apparition returns,
And tells me it is I who
Perceive things wrongly.
The wasteland is my mind, it says,
If I did not earlier see the
Enchantment,
I will not see it now.