Through purple-greyish smoke billowed from lips both mine and yours,
our eyes glazed, blacklight seen reflecting on our silver ores.

Dark purple painted walls with red designs keep calm the folks
on leather couches billowing with eyes like silver ores.

Oh you and I, the strangers here, all have our many reasons,
some came with them, some made them here, eyes glazed like silver ores.

An Artificial Reason calms our minds in this Mad Season,
crucified on G-clef staff, eyes glazed like silver ores.

This sanctuary, whispered 'round, and found through word of mouth,
somewhere, we've all forgotten in the glaze of silver ores.

Our therapy, if long or short, time counted by the songs,
recovery is measured by the glaze of silver ores.

As one leaves so another comes, replacing on the couch,
the glaze of one with glaze of other's eyes like silver ores.

(C)2013, Christos Rigakos