Sarcasm firing back

Moon travels like a question, white cloud it touches the wind, I draw from you my inspiration

Arrived in me, compounded, windy clouded, to your moon imparted

Feeling heaven touching thoughts, beheld in your grace, from which moon, I trace inspiration,

Passing above, I give to the high moon, knowledge in a windy cloud, perhaps planting

Inspiration as knowledge, the moon and you, and I become a windy cloud, panting,

Drawn here, in a mirror, returning back god to god, or mortal to mortal,

Give my all, graffiti in splattered confetti your soul, my stupid kazoo at your party

Fire back with my god-given role, hiphiphooray, a wannabe’s Theophany