Lightning Strike

Slivered forked lightning striking

from clear azure skies,

literally a bolt from the blue,

should’ve destroyed.

Instead I retreated to a place I remembered

aglow with the lights of a million fairies,

where all colours reflect a golden hue,

and hid.

Under scintillating red suns of blurred battered emotion,

sheltered in the lea of my illusory harbour,

I watched from afar

faltering fish fly over choppy black oceans

and bewildered birds swim through grave clouds of grey,

while the heaving heavens trembled

and the mortal earth wept.

And until the undistorted sordid snakes of reality

ripped me from my sanctuary

into a blazing agony of hovering truth,

I cowered unconscious in a drifting bed of denial.