Elixir

Who's more stubborn
me, or my verse?

You may shot back, "the former"
but neither do I keep a poesy in chains

nor do I flog a sleeping horse
order her to run along my lane

A friend often asks,
"why don't you obey
the science of language?"

My thoughts
dynamic pulses
rotate in distinct orbits of varied shapes

they can't be bound by syntax.

Who's more crazy then,
me, or this poem?

You may reply, "the former"

Yet never do I seek asylum in anybody,
not even within a mirror

the latter provides the power
to prolong my life