Dave Theriault

 

Uncommon Malaise


A reflection of a reflection and so on ad infinitum
A Perception of which builds the Most Holy Adytum

A struggle with the Madness, an uncommon Malaise
The Words of Fire by which the Spirit I raise

The Detritus of Centuries: the long dead Word
Yet the echo of Its meaning is what I heard

From the Era of Time that has long since gone
I saw in Its Sound the Light of the Dawn

A Strange and Ethereal glowing I did perceive
What? I wondered, was I about to receive

The Distillation of Wisdom by Centuries refined
Yet not with words could It be defined

An Unusual Knowledge, felt only by few
An Idea of Old clothed in the New

An Impulse, a Feeling, a Seed of Thought
The means by which The Mysteries are taught

Most Holy Word and Sacred Rhyme
Ever moving through the Cycles of Time

Intensely Burning Fires of Revelatory Verse
At once a Blessing and the Same a Curse

The Foreshadowing of What is Yet to come
Fragments of a Vision that total a Sum

The Whole of which a Glimpse I perceive
'Ere the Vision breaks and now does leave