wending your way across the astray spray of galactic aeons, on the wings of love, guided by the mystery of wisdom, musing eyes tear down the gathering night with a yearning fluttering to heights where the blues of asphyxiation powers up to a fuga of excruciating inebriety; as a fiery breeze you take off, answer to a hunger beyond definitions, razing the wicked pretentions of voluptuous mermaids whose ashes now crumble as sluds of gangrene down towards their last resting place in the umbrage of jaded wreckage blossoming the frigid vulva of hell. while mining for gossamer ore, invisible hands push you around funerary inaugurations that stare blind and mute back, and shove you on mossy crossroads into stalemate ends where exorcism nor redemption are meaningless - weaving in boredom the strands of your own hallucinatory journey, lungs with nicotine ectoplasm, too much caffeine in the bloodstream, and bones eager to perform an atrocious waltz, no torpid mood incapicitate
