He made me feel again.
How I've longed for that.
It's still too scary, though.
Too hard, and too abstract.
But I felt those moments,
silent ones at best,
when my heart smiled,
and my brain was at rest.
So peaceful that place,
so surprisingly safe.
I guess that's what gets us there,
and won't let us escape.
But I broke free,
and came back to my own.
I'm better now,
than being in the unknown.
That's precisely my point
after such analytical scrawl:
just stick to your own,
when illusion comes to call.
He did make me feel again:
Light, Bright, and Sane;
but how long would it take him
to bring me the pain?
I'd imagine not long,
an effort would hardly be made,
to strangle my strength
until I obeyed.
He did make me feel again:
Light, Bright, and Sane,
but I'll stick to my own,
and never, ever, complain.
(London,16 February,2001)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem