The Great Deception

It seeped through him

before he grabbed the pen,

before steel spilled
onto paper

in each letter he wrote.

It was a virus that streamed in,

in residual parts.

The first infection trickled in
with a vision:

High above the earth,

gravity had deemed him
an exception, refusing to let him plunge.

And he stood,

certain.

The second flowed in
with another vision:

the heavens bowed before him;

and so the third,
the fourth,
the fifth.

Then the Great Deception
caressed him,

until the day he deemed
his intellect greater
than God’s,
his reason the final
determiner,

as his written work
had said,
as his mind believed.

 

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