An Agent by Design
He was a god without a prayer. A master without self-–realization.
Or a combustible appropriation— a snap chat for neurons.
Something that runs like blood. Electricity. The Sun.
Something that takes that step …
off the side…
without a second thought.
Confidant GOD will intervene…
Send angels….good vibes…
or it’s a plunge to an inglorious obliteration below.
No in-between. No measure of happiness.
No reason for sadness. Eternal psychic pallor.
Bardo bedlam a new normal.
MULTI-MEDIA PIECE BY THE AUTHOR