Cursed intellect….

Trying to destroy,
the fortress of god,
his imagination his sword,
defying every reprise,
of dreams dead,
or those,
that barely survived,
clenched fists,
pursed lips,
scorching minds,
with the tip,
of his pen,
he'll prise open,
all the doors,
to your safest heaven,

or otherwise,
he just might
play with words,
lessen the pain,
fight like the devil,
this utter disdain,
spinning webs in silence,
trapping,
a few drops of rain,
fallen leaves,
flying on the wind,
and buzzing thoughts,
that are his prey....

oblivious,
to the bliss of ignorance,
he trains,
to see through the mist,
cursed he is,
as he just might,
against all odds,
try to exist,
cursed with intellect,
and yet he himself,
might be cursing it ...