Author note: this is not a very good poem. I wrote it VERY late at night (it seemed like a good idea at the time). Please don't hurt me
His long fingers steeple,
As light fills his eyes,
Incandescent silver, ex nihilo,
Radiating knowledge;
I wish I could see what he sees.
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A quirk of cerise,
The slightest smile,
He swoops from his chair,
Such indefinable motion;
I wish I could see what he sees.
-----
I follow as always,
At an epistemic distance,
For me, an unfathomable journey,
Yet for him, the enigma is solved;
I wish I could see what he sees.
-----
The opiate flows through him,
Lines soften on his face,
The image of tainted serenity,
Agonising ecstasy;
I wish I could see what he sees.
-----
Shattering cries in the night,
A great mind haunted,
Relapsed by phantom memories,
Unbanishable demons;
I wish I could see what he sees
If only so that the pain could pass to me.