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Apr 2021
Of what decendants do we come
Were we first
Are we last
Scrapped from the depths of his doledrums
Just a test and game for him to play
Does he have other worlds
Full of creatures that might make your toes curl
As gruesome as your inner most thoughts
Or a brother and sister of whom he may have taught
Do we coinside with a billion other types of universe
Spinning and just whirling
All kept in a case
Just shelved to keep them smiling
And answer me this young thing of whom I know not speak
Who watches on him who thinks he guards us
His
Master
Also
A
Reclusive
Mystic
Thing

Gods

JJB
“The psychotic drowns in the same waters in which the mystic swims with delight.”
― Joseph Campbell
John Bartholomew
Written by
John Bartholomew  45/M/Cambridge
(45/M/Cambridge)   
88
 
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