Wider your pupils, to see clearly the night.
Heart beats into the rhythm of insane drums.
Bitter breath of laughing green demons.
Open the champagne I’m on my way to your consciousness.
I have cleaver to chop up the umbilical cord of your prejudices at last.
Suck out all gall of thy fear from it.
Your stone.
Snatch your poisonous nest of aggression and anger.
Throw them into the raging stream of Acheron.
Set you free …
Or not …
I’ll pass.
Lift higher my gate.
Spitting is the answer to your look.
If you want.
Poke your stone with your paper knife.
But better
Tighter your wires
Awaits you
Life
… Your Death
formymozga 