Diadem Tumors

Festoons of shimmering ego diamonds
strung through the mind as a deified diadem.
It is to see life through their indulgent opulence,
arrogantly set in one’s gaze as a monarch’s view,
while the heart bakes in the illusionary greatness,
slowly turning cancerous to the pride,
which swells and slays the mental marrow
of its capacity to still feel mars and flaws.

Slowly the infection spreads its toxic venom
until one imagines being ensconced upon silvery pedestal ,
possessed of a luster igniting the air
and everything that dwells in one’s perceptions
so it creates a golden aura
to reflect a superior quintessence.

Oh the stumbling steps taken while only seeing stars
each one envisioned as possessing one’s face,
totally enthralled by the view
that is self induced with a counterfeit radiance.

But it is all a cerebral game of fairy tale pretense
where happy endings are invented and measured
by what glitter sticks to one’s life.

What eloquence is composed to justify
the madness of feigned fame,
a passage of decaying truth,
utterly fatal to one’s clarity
with demise coming to any sense of harmony.

For once one thinks god lives in the head
the sickness has no cure,
just left to wander into denial’s play land
blissfully surrounded by angels only you can see.