My sanity hangs in the balance as I write.

I fill the page with a world born of darkness and light.

Of a universe centered at the very tips of my fingers.

It flows from my mind in smooth streams of conciousness

And as I imagine it now, the sparks of creation linger.

I leave the land of reality to enter a palace of inceptive creativity.

Further and further I push, demanding to bring to fruition all that I think

And without the rules of the solid Earth, nothing is an impossibility. 

I am soaring through on gossamer wings powered by the energy of all good things.

There I remain letting the few strains of helplessness drift into the open botttomless air.

I am one with the madness, I am free from the sane.

In these strikingly fluorescent hours I let insanity conquer my brain.

For one night as I write,

I can flee from problems that corner me

At least until I put my pen down to will myself to sleep.