Psychotic Flash

Twisted distortions - the shadows of life
Ruptures of the mind and heart and soul
Psychotic flash of whitest light
They call themselves the holy men
Praying that they never really
Have to work again

It matters not, the mind and flesh
They always come to intermesh
Mind does not save matter after all
Twisted distortions, dementia supreme
Swallow sound and make them scream

Psychotic flash of whitest light
They call themselves the holy men
Impure, they live in dungeons of the mind
Spirit flying endlessly
In crazy circles, spiraling
Out to where there's nothing much at all

Sinking then, into the deep
Where measured water serves
To keep them down
Mitered, all the circles squared
Muted, as the lightning flares
Strike, and all the world
Turns to ash

Psychotic flash of whitest light
Awake through every sleepless night
Dreaming, ever dreaming
Of return...

? Michaelette ?

5/17/2002
Copyright© 2002, Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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