A Very Epic Morning

Saturday morning 6:am
I’m so excited to hear the ringing
of my beloved alarm clock
I jump out of bed
eager to drink my first morning coffee
I shower, and I dress

and as I’m opening the front door to leave
a gasp of dark air takes my breath
and then with horror in my eyes
and a shaking hand holding the keys to the door
I think…where…
where… are you going girl? it's saturday
 
how does one come to know what one’s future holds?
if they do not search for it
in every empty space waiting to be filled?
 
so I went to my second hand dining table
I sat down on my old wooden chair
and I wrote, and I wrote, and I wrote
all the imagery and all that I hate
all that I love
and all that makes me irate
 
today there is no muse
just I, the paper and the ink…
so I wrote about the Devil
who I believe to be a wimp
how he tricked me into doing many things
things I would never want to do
in my humble opinion this made him rich
 
but then my pen moved slightly to the left  
and I started to believe once more
in the great power of good
 I could hear in my head
the great violin of my own Soul
playing the music of existent dreams
 
finally drowning out his voice and laughter
so now, he’s worthless
and as I pull myself back from the brink of mindless nonsense
my own pride battered like an old decaying cod
waiting to fill the bellies of the starving
It’s now 6:56 am
 
time to once again get a grip on my sanity   
and as I reflect onto the next page
of which I truly hope to write at least a few
 
maybe I'll even write  about an Angel or two.