Monolith

I'd call this mirror a demon, so clearly I see in.
Lies tied with the twine of a genius stitching fear in my freedom.
So weird is this pretense.
Belief in belief, no platform for reason to caption.
Even though I can't hear what I'm seeing.
Action: Decisive.
Pen to canvas to fight myth and capture my likeness.
When the answers to life get staggered and quiet,
At least there's a madness to write with.
Some call it passion, defy this.
Don't ever forget passion's attachment to violence.
Ideology, weaponry.
Certainty in degrees.
Monoliths of truth and deceit to sit between.
If the muse intervenes, check the psychedelica.
Dreams in the night to let the blood from the blessed ones.
Tune to the muse, set the drums.
Pyramids left for us, confused by what the method was.

A little down time.