Trinity Clashes

Deep in the chasms of bleeding, luminescent sarcophagus

where the scribes of our essence chant their secrets

the tethers to reality fray

binding the mind, body and soul.

 

Spirit ascends to lofty layers while sewn to earthen facets,

brain begets its throated passions, visions steam in fancy's tea pot,

flesh obeys as servant to king pulse,

all working in rhythm to a sun's stop watch.

 

Inward the ghosts of our stumbling resolutions

weave festoons of Nirvana and Hades into the sandman's litter box.

 

Between the pillars of conscience

erected to keep the crumbling house of sanity

from suffering dementia's earthquake

one strolls as a mirror enigma

calling out for help with mime language.

 

Hoping to find a maze with a map

that doesn't lead to another halo dungeon

where the screams from our triune essence are soften

by the death groans of our mortality.