State Of Me.

Allow me to stretch my writer arm

Note the spectral energies embodied by my form 

 When I write, words, I don’t envision

Instead, a code, from a time untold

Fulfilling my role

As intergalactic mediator

For the layman.

Their shouts, I turn to whispers

As I descend, towards the center

Of raging winds, for I am the eye

Of the storm, the calm, that dilates,

Pushes back, our world’s veritable stampede

Come hell or high water

I make a way where others believe

There is none.

– Original-Dante ©2017

Photograph: MarsiaMS