"Fated to Superfluity of Thought"

I'm sitting back thinking (are you
thinking); this life has me thinking

All these things have me contemplating (what are you thinking of); it seems that we've been fated unto this relentless ruminating

What cruel insensitivity (but, we enjoy
what we've been given); my heads bowed low with my fist on my chin

Abstract thoughts float through my
cranium; my cogitations won't let me
be (do you sleep, and when you do,
do you think of, "What Dreams may Come;" what is to come)

Like a Daemon dispatched to antagonize me; like a Daniel whom
in the night had insight to see through absurdities

Like a Wytch whom through Skrying and scattering the bones interprets the Wynds, some third-eyes never close and continue to ascertain

The ending is never far away; the night doesn't conceal but, is as
bright as the day

The eyes in their sockets are as torches illumining the haze; the
higher knowledge from the spirit
world never ceases but continues
to attest the course of the maze

"And, the Guide through the Ouija
 came; himself, introduced as
 Dantalion, upon me Lighted...

Now, my mind never Ceases to be
incited"