Judah Mahay, Author


Words within come unbidden before the eyes struck within my mind.

I cannot bear the ache of this unsettled turmoil.

Words must come forth or surely the I of self will die.

Lost, I fall within the space of convoluted thought, where only imagination can hone my mind to some semblance of clarity.

Madness be the disease of word’s caress.

I must give.

I must be.

I am.


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