How Broken Men Begin Again

There's a time to chase the world, and a time for the world to chase you... the distinction between destiny and damnation can become ambiguous as a dream on the edge of twilight when the world is watching you ruthlessly, hungering for your nude heart, restless to weigh and rent the miracle of your madness, the jinx of creative genius that throws you into unabashed brilliance, and you realize the pounce of primal persecution which defies defunct delusion spawning a paranoid perfection in your life's progression, In a special, spontaneous moment you experience the grand epiphany that you have become the forbidden art of a sweet blooming impromptu spiritual ritual, and the roiling world eagerly puts it's lips upon your apocalypse of sudden spirit eruption, you smile and cry for the reason why your patina innocence has died leaving a husk of bloody humor which bequeaths an armor hammered by instincts of iron and studded with bolts of steel tears... On that chosen morning you rise with an electric strength yet seem fragile as baby feathers, and you understand unequivocally that golden ore is gained from within the aged mountain, a fissured face reveals ancient veins of pure soul, a geography of psychology provides testimony of terrific thunderheads in your hellbent eyes the geology of a million years moistens skin weathered by undeniable endurance, your brain complains not of the scalding emotional rain nor your heart of the commonplace cuts of maddening acquiescence, that's ok because you were born to walk into the storm to take divine form from the hot lightning that bestows enlightening feeling, Long mile therapy is the heresy of your new lunatic odyssey, you exit the familiar arena as society screams apostasy, apostasy, hypocrisy and hostility fail to halt the salt rub on your sensitive skin, trophies and thorns you throw over your shoulders as goodbye grooms the grind of a fearless wanderlust, Yeah, you're a little lost Yeah, you're a big ghost, Yeah the cost is gross as you travel across the continent, to be brave is a beautiful thing and it don't come free, you pay in your exotic coin, you pay with exquisite pain, fuel ain't cheap and neither is your love for life, you go on and on one gamble after another and you reap and reap leap and leap you go, casinos and hotels foretell the homeless hell that you've chosen, will Providence forgive the empty purse of your starburst curse, the road goes on from town to town yet your crown remains as you fall down to trampled ground, on a sleek beach you're found half dead and half happy, yeah, there's a melody in you but you don't know what to do, the law gets you into a shelter but mercy feels more like mortality, Hey, you're alive today, a rose has risen amid the downtrodden - Justin A. Bordner 2022