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About the miserably transient feeling of dominance one gleans in their spiritual struggles, somewhere between the dark night and shallow dawn.

in the beckoning twilight I find the darkness

lax and lazy, complacent, satisfied

loose it reigns, a careless abandon

and I laugh, I laugh and cry

how I found God in a khlysti sermon

so soft and weak, so pale like moonlight

dough between my fingers

a pampered darkness scarcely bleak

gone and away the weight from my chest

the laughing, cawing turns to me

I see myself in me

every vein a hissing snake roaring

shrieking backwards up Yggdrasil’s spine[…]

Poem: Catharsis — The Sperg Box