What is this place that consumes my soul,
This dark cavern so full of woes?
There is no escape, I'm too far from help.
What or Whom comes to steal my Self?

This circle spins around in timely fashion,
It chokes my will and steals my passion.
Like a speeding carousel of vicious lies,
It spins out of control and blinds my eyes.

My voice is strange, my mind is weak.
There are no questions to the answers I seek.
The image in the mirror is not my own.
In one cycle of the moon, this woman is shown.

When she dwells within, I am askew.
My thoughts not my own, my sight is untrue.
Am I and this woman one in the same?
Surely she must be known by another name!

Her reign doesn't last for very long,
But the pain she brings is frighteningly strong.
The damage seems minor from outside my eyes,
But the harm she produces lingers inside.

Why must she come here, why must I go?
This prison in my head is blurry and cold.
As she quietly retreats back into the depths,
I am finally released from the cell I was kept.

With my wits about me and my sight now clear,
I will reclaim the prize of My Life so dear.
One of balance and conviction and serenity,
And until one cycle of the moon, quiet stability.

© 4-5-98, M.G.J., Poetic Peace Productions.