there just quietly resting
beneath some slumbering haze.
characters desiring their stories told;
yet since Lithium entered their stage
She quieted them as if in waiting
That Pink Lady whose reputation
thankfully I have not come to know
has actually shown me grave respect.
I now call the characters when I chose
instead of them rushing upon me
clambering with demands to be heard
out of chronological order or care:
one is ethereal, tall and elven fair
placed in a Sanitarium's padded cell
as Steam-punk music is overlaid.
But now with my steady mind I can
craft their desires more fittingly
as should be done: Elf lords in his fairy
woods, the undercover reporter caught
off guard, and the airship well on its
way in tune for docking.
I deeply feared the drug would inhibit
my thoughts in a zombie fashion;
however, after Her learning curve I
see the haze is about my focus
not in view - I'm happy to create anew.
...
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