A Call Back

I call back to the Maker.

"You call that 'a map?"

I don't recall that at all.

Why was there 'a trap to fall?

Lies upon my back, I crawl.

Cries on my lap, I bawl.

High as I time-lapse, I'm staring at the wall; IMAX.

I'm daring them all to rhyme my raps and touch the Divine back.

I'm rushing, my mind keeps jumping.

I'm buzzing, my spine leaks something.

I'm gushing.

The Nine speaks and I'm hushing them.

I'm nothing, Zen.