The Medium

Rays blind,
As I surface on celestial sands
Speaking in different tongues,
I think that this could be heaven

Darkness shines,
As I climb on gossamer hilltops
Singing in different pitches,
I think that this could be utopia

Frigidness implodes,
As I turn on past rage
Staring in different obsessions,
I think that this could be a downfall

Plague explodes
As I forget on life's importance
Stabbing in different wavelengths,
I think that this could be hell

But what is life, without the satanic or exultant?
What is life lacking that deplorable solvent? d—d
The taste of vengeance and the pang of guilt
There is no life between the extremes
For in the end,
Life becomes the medium of our wildest dreams

poem by Gabrielle Fleming
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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