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Bring me the shadow of the black sky's grace.
Topple this partial release of neurotransmitters.
Chemical cocktails chase the dancing dream.
Yet nightmares race ahead in my rotting head.
Like a cabbage neglected by the Gardener's broken thumb
I am numb to the frost of winter's snowy spread.
Unable to see through the mind's eye or feel through the body's hands
A lack of touch and thought make for heightened faults.
Like cracks in the Earth's foundation, the break starts at my core.
Indeed, the body fails at the mind's disjunction.
As they say, form follows function.