Introspectacle Poem by John Weber

My head ignites
like the Hindenburg
with rage-drenched doubt
while fighting the urge
to despise the light
of harmony I purge.

Punch-drunk and wheezy
in my mirrorbox maze,
I hot-box with demons
each wearing my face
determined with egos
defiant against grace.

Such balanced pairings
provoke familiar dances
with jabs and aches to spare
until atoms stack on command
to punctuate orders
of self's brutal demand.