In my mind there are beautiful monstrosities that would love to take poetic form on parchment for the world to see. Yet my words are not well crafted enough nor my sketch precise enough to contain the power of the emotions that carve from my soul to my art. Still I try and I try for relief of mind as I contain this destructive force from the purest part of my soul. Here I stand, existing between the border of insanity and the grace of brilliance. My path is thin as I ascend into the musical remedy above the chaotic maelstrom of my desires. Here I let my colors fly freely and my soul bare its self to an invisible world. Here my passions are limitless and free. In this ascended path, none can be hurt or entranced by the creatures of the dark recesses of my mind. Here I stand above the maze of my existence, only to look down and see one who would need me. There some compulsive deity of my body enacts what will help, only to find that I end up back in my mind facing my beautiful monstrosities that do so pleasure themselves in enticing forms of poetry of their design.