A Sickness Stirs With A Stagnant Fair Poem by Tanathica

A sickness stirs with a stagnant fair
What with the things that lately take place
With the tap that tingles and the neural flare
And the damage done's deficient trace

It's night - and I'm walking alone on a bridge
I could leap off, sinking into sky
While if I looked up, holding onto the ridge
A restless deep river transfixes my eye

In lightless waters there's outlines I know
Dancing on black waves like scarecrows that coil
Settling in whorls around stones I throw
They stay on the surface and make the brook boil

A fire stirs with a flickering start
A strange flame that gives off no warmth, only burns
Yet greedy it spreads, yet does not depart
A gift borne of nerves we can't teach, only learn