She seemed locked up
In the prison of her mind
Something gone awry
Screws loosened
Blood flowed oddly
She spoke about cyber attacks
Computers crashing
The state of this chaotic society
The world coming to an end
She was dead, she said
Total nonsense, some thought
She is out of her mind, others surmised
When I looked at her
I wondered similarly
I could see the strain
The draining of oxygen to her brain
No longer feeding her
Seeping away
She stated clearly
"It is all around us, you too"
We didn’t know what to make of
Her stories and fantasies
Seemingly partially triggered
By news of the day or by a movie
A book
Current 3D reality
Full of horrors
The next day, we found that
Solar storm surges had happened
The day she fell apart
Aurora Borealis was created
Northern lights burst
The Holy Grail of sky watchers
The sun ejecting stormy
Plasma bubbles crashing into
The Earth’s ionosphere
These auroral beads lit up
Like geometric patterns
Our atmosphere fluoresced
Amazingly gorgeous colors shone
Unlike we have ever seen
In this part of the world
Had her brain lit up as well?
Was she mad or not?
Or was she just
Detached from our usual reality?
A hospital’s medical records had
Actually been cyber attacked
That same day
Shutting the system down
As she predicted or knew
Did she belong locked up
In a hospital after all?
She knew her mind
Had been harmed
A perfect storm
Each story she shared had a
Ring of truth
Perhaps exaggerated and stunning
Shocking, or not
Was she a psychiatric patient
A psychic or a prophet?
Now she seeks emancipation
From the barbed wire
Clogging up her mind
She longs for freedom
From the locked doors
That are meant to keep her
Safe
Will she be further damaged or
Shamed or lose her independence
Because these geometric storms
Her genetics and history
The internet and AI
Have swallowed her up?
Is our grid falling apart?
Perhaps the Centre cannot hold?
*A line from WB Yeats’ poem, The Second Coming
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