To soar as Buzzards, as Eagles, must we eat carrion?

Lightening flashes across my vision.
If I hold my head at a particular angle,
and do not focus directly,.
I can identify what I see.
Now the lightening lingers,
shimmers,
dazzling,
superimposed over the
optic neuritis skewed to ultra violet,
beautiful and misleading.
Sometimes
stabbing pain is the price for such glory.
Do the bees, with vision in ultra violet,
pay a cost in pain?
Is their price a short lifespan?
The lightening is from another
source,
aural migraine,
an infinite receding,
pursued awareness, 
A samsara of all encompassing agony.
Can I ride pain as Quan Lin,
riding a Dragon,
surfing the waves of suffering?
Will my brain implode,
bursting outward from my skull,
a nightmare,
a quasar-burst of light and waves and matter;
radio resonating squeal?
Or will it not?
All the while the Stars
scream,
the constant, 
starry cicada song
overwhelmed by the banshee screech
that only I perceive. So intense the
pain it squeezes the bile from my
body in waves of vertigo,
sailing up and down,
and around,
and around,
whirling.
No end to the spiral. 
Can I dance it all away,
to fall in an exhausted heap?
Must I dance on,
whirling,
screaming:
When is there surcease?
When is there sleep?
Will the cat ever relinquish
the Cursed Fiddle?
.
To soar as Buzzards, as Eagles,
must we eat carrion?
Bear December 13, 2022
©Bearspawprint2022
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Silence of Thorns

No longer 
May I live 
Near human 
People so politely  
Uncaring civilized 
In ignorance I scream 
And cry wailing 
Too much and 
No mirrored image 
Bereft of the Veil 
Some days all nights 
Continuously calling 
Screaming despair 
While writing 
While sewing 
While making love 
While mending
While wandering silent 
Creating reasons
Of disillusioned 
Thinking unacceptable 
While cooking sleeping
Other beings cringe 
Shrinking from 
My broken primal 
Screaming wailing 
Cries follow me 
My own meteor tail 
Of illuminated grief
What will never be  
Yet waves flow 
Rippling eternal
Illusion adorns my
Body as garments
Woven from despair 
Sorrowing siren calls
I may never find the 
Echoing perimeter 
Of pain heartache 
Buzzing louder 
Harmonic pulses
Louder scream song
Enduring in the shouted 
Silence continuously I wail 
Anguish impenetrable
This barrier of Banshee 
Screeching thorns  
.
The Silence of Thorns
Agawela  13March2022
ⓒBearspawprint2022