Mid-Terms

Faceless demons walk up the aisle

The air conditioner monster spews out liquid ice with a smile

Next to the cold unforgiving 2x3 desk in classroom 104

I feel my soul slip away and scurry to the door

I see the shadows of fallen angles rest above the projector screen  

Last night’s party has left my mind exhaustedly whipped clean

Their greedy claws and black eyes swallow the happiness that I once felt

Mid-terms, and the cards have already been dealt.

As I haphazardly shuffle through the test to find familiar material

The words bounce off the page and ricochet around the walls like Kik’s Cereal

I am completely utterly and desperately unprepared

My mind becomes a useless trap with no information snared

My fingers start to sweat as I hear whispers of my sanity pleading for forgiveness

There is no way this shit was in the syllabus

I scramble to make sense of the calligraphy that has been placed in front of me

My hands no longer work and my mind has shipped off to sea.

I jot down random misconstrued ideas in the margins of the pages  

Blank thoughts engulf my consciousness in brutal stages

There is neither hope nor pity for the unprepared

There hasn’t been a better time for god to answer my prayers

Or a white knight to gallantly rescue this damsel in distress

Chivalrously capture this confined child’s pain and stress

Raging wars with my inner adjournment, unfortunately losing battles   

There is no salvation; God no longer resides in this castle.

As hope gently fades away like summer winds

And the thoughts of failure become my friends

The knowledge I once knew miraculously begins to flow like streams

I feel enlightened; I hope this isn’t a dream 

I am doing it! I am going to pass this test!

I close my eyes and I hold my breathe

I strut down the aisle and like a tree I stand tall

In the end God hadn’t forsaken me after all