Migraine Mystery

No matter how much time and effort you put into elevating your vibrations, life will at times deal you some low-vibes. It is at these times we wait for the storm to pass, accepting and working through it the best we are able. This poem is born out of some severe migraines. I have learned through these times of tormenting pain, that migraines and other forms of pain have a root system that goes way beyond a physical affliction!

The MigraineThe Migraine

Red, orange, red- like lava slowly erupting;

Agonizingly painful, burning everything in its path.

It’s current sweeping over all, leaving nothing untouched.

“Hot” sounds it like ice melting in spring sunshine;

Lava embers sear, and when it cools, only rocks, barrenness and desolation remain.

My eyes pierce the dimly darkened night;

All is still when you can hear the hum of the fan.

Stiffly I crouch at the edge of my bed, while the night’s visions fade away into the fog.

Where is the little white miracle- washed down with water- that takes away all pain?

Will it work tonight?

Or will miracles cease to exist as I writhe under this merciless whip?

Lava burns it’s way through all defenses;

Pacing the four corners of my home, strength becomes a byword.

The judgments of this world show no empathy, as I wrestle to prove my presence in the now…

and my freedom from the relentless images of yesterday’s torture and heartache.

The world is like a vortex full of eyes that stare in wait;

 I hear a voiceless cry in the searing lava of tormenting pain.

“This too shall pass…yes, it will pass” 

But this moment feels eternal- when unbearable pain opens the locks, one by one,

into the heartache so tightly hidden away.

 

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