Plagued by a perturbed spirit,
Now, faith flees amok
Colonised by
A gust of mood;
Desperation,
Slumped on the chest, gives a withering look
To the remnants of a dream devoid of language.
I bellowed,
Frantic with doubt.
Also, wanting.
Oh my soul’s vice!
The need
I swithered as to whether to rot or drown.
To drown.
Now, wheedling faith
Though it is shrivelled bones;
Speak it
To a boat
Perhaps, elude the deluge
The need
Spurn reason.
But the waters are sparring
Spurn reason!
But the waters?
Faith drifting to leeward.
Is this good?
Where is the chaos?
Abort!
I am anguished by a spirit sated only with madness.
The plague-cum need
Is there reason?
That’s faith!
Is it?
Twirling around the mouthed waters,
On a desperate wading
-As if parodying a miracle.
Faith!
Mine, to salvage
How?
How!
How!?
