Endgame

Where the lines are blurred.

Wave upon wave upon wave

Thunderous waves commanding, non-reckoning

Surge of society, mould of morality, purging sinful festering

One cows down, wondering, hoping, wishing, praying, begging…

“Tempered thus, thou shalt persevere”

“Feel His malevolent thrusts crashing upon thee.”

Stamping the maxim upon your lifeless, submissive form

 “Thou art Mine. I play thee fiddle to find Me.”

But what if you twisted the laws that were?

What if you discovered  a meaning, the elusive meaning of ‘her’?

What if conjoined became two forms?

Nay in body, nary in thought, just identical, spiritual spurs.

Around a steed, wild to romp, temperamental in predicament

Would then the horizon clear, a recourse to Existence most timely?

A Pandora’s box torn down, an answer, perhaps, finally