Walking the Knife's Edge

on beating wings, the pounding inside my head
threatens to explode through my fragile skull

that which I do not know,
which I cannot remember,
sits in the eye of the maelstrom,
arms crossed, smug smile
on the face of the unnameable

surrounded by light, swirling madness,
calm darkness, intensely hazy

the light shines, the heat warms, passion inflames,
the birds chatter inanely and sweetly,
a heavenly gift

and I let go,
surrendering to my descent into the sweet oblivion
that is madness

where truth and lies merge and enmesh,
where reality and unreality become the same beast,
where the line between good and evil is muddied
and uncertain,
where light and darkness coexist,
where life and death are indescribable and inseparable

wait, is that madness,
insanity,
or is it merely the awakening