When life becomes the monumental mess
that only 'mind put right' will make repair,
the problem is complex, and one's distress
like Freddie's knives, becomes a true nightmare.
Strung out on both desire and denial,
one's circled wagons are a target for
dark forces, thin on pity, long on guile,
which wangle to destroy what we adore.
Life-long mistakes and wrong assumptions stack
like layers on an onion, each one worse.
What's wrong with us, goes clean to bone and back.
Where truth runs pure, our percepts are perverse.
No less than light quasaric, on our deeds
will make a new Nirvana from these weeds.