With inspiration from the Scottish play.

With inspiration from the Scottish play.

When something this way comes

How will you know

Who do you ask

What stops the wayward

From turning

In the silence

There are no witches

To stir the pot

The hubble bubble

Of guilty voices

Is your own concoction

You need not

Trouble yourself

Over one damn spot

The demons you fear

Reside

On the inside

The loss you feel

Is real

The challenge you have

Is to survive

Without resort

To self-recrimination

A matter of contention

Is self-blame

It lights its own flame

Burns without end

Turns you to dust

From the inside

Out

Dried on the bone

Dead on your own

With no one to listen

To your story

There is no glory

In ignoring

Pain

It is neither

Right nor wrong

When something

Wicked

This way comes

Do not flee

Learn to lean

It is what deep-sea diving

Soul surviving

Deadbeat poets

Find

In an old school of cold fish

They either sink

Or swim together