Autism’s power is a vise

that chokes freedom from the self-conscious soul

waiting for rest that never comes.

Overwhelming struggle

in wasted fights of energy

given for sport.

All can watch without knowing

patient Excellence

parading as moments of normality.

Where is thy king, o seer of my body,

so that I may slay him

and take back my life.

Enough already!

I grow weary once again,

oh demon of hell’s furnace.

Would I were saintly sanctified

by some easier path.

copyright 2013 John Smyth