The battleground created from darkest intent

brought to light with a torch to catastrophize

cobwebs, deceitfully woven to contain fluid knowledge

My personal Library of Alexandria scorched

Idiocracy with a twist of lime and soapy cilantro

I am reminded that I murder in color faces past

When the joke ends and my power returns.

Living in a second hand version of real/altered reality

Knowing that death isn’t inherently sad, it is transition,

makes the difference between knowing and understanding.