As ancient and instinctual
as sex.
It throbs and pulses
through the ages.
Wormhole-ing and devouring
important chunks
out of Destiny’s map.
From ‘Spider and Fly’,
schoolyard ‘Sticks and Stones’
through the explosive passions of Love,
to the language of War
in the name of God,
King, Country and… excuses.
It has no Master,
pity or mercy,
feeds and refuels
the same from both
weak and strong.
Dwells in Karma’s blindside,
there are no Heroes
in the face of its havoc,
Martyrs are still dead victims.
A destructive energy,
channelled but never ruled,
a free-flowing Dark Magic
invisibly cobwebbing the Earth,
ever watchful
for the next Fool
to give into Anger and Spite
and become a Vessel for its Forming.