Reason, the prodigal son
In what bed does clarity sleep
when the sun goes down?
When modern reason has no just effect
And the beast is unleashed
Is there sanctuary within the bordello of the mind?
Those waning sleepless minutes
That tick upon the pavement like raindrops
Like a beggar panhandling
Always pitiful
Creatures of invention that grow wings
And soar across dreamscapes
With terror in the breadth of truth
And yet the counting begins
To share the sunlight
With that demon-by friend
To bumble down through the debris of the day
With an etching of the night’s madness
A chaos with a fond smile
To pierce your eyes into tomorrow’s festivities
Knowing a similar fate
Awaits you... and him
That rose is so sweet is the day
But then the on/off switch recalls
White walls, whiskey, and words
Who is reason’s master and keeper?
Certainly not I
I stare in the mirror long and long
Seeing if I could conjure him
To slow down the thoughts
Just enough for a clear vision
Watching the day’s events like a mad hatter see-saw
And yet I’ve always liked chaos
But you are just too much
Reason, where art thou?
