The migraine calls like God; thunder over mountain
Rolling deep dark echoes, and shaking up the ice
To fall like sharp daggers, dropping points on my eye.
I fall hard to my knees, and pray to stop the pain.

All other thoughts eclipsed, as pain becomes like suns
Exploding in my head, burning through my brain
To leave a charred vessel, too fragile to even move
As ash becomes my skin, and stardust is my lungs.

I practise ritual, I pray so hard it hurts,
I try to straighten form, and breathe in gentle rolls,
Call on Alexander, and all my other roles
That work sporadically; they sometimes just desert.

Destructive forces leer, like imps upon a ledge;
They're grinning ear to ear, as I consider death
To free me from this pain. They know that I can't last
A moment more than this; I'm on the razor's edge.

I feel their fingers close, squeeze my protesting throat;
I grit my teeth and scream, forcing air into my lungs.
And as the pain recedes, I see them standing there,
Patient in their defeat, they leave a passing note:

You can think that we've gone, but it's just a gap in time.
The prayers will come and go, but we are always here,
So smile and take a breath, and master all your fears
Before we gather strength, and strike when you are fine.