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.