I remember *** like a past life time
I remember love like a fresh knife wound
I have sensations in these pages
Scribes of feelings and dumb poetry

Loneliness is a privilege
Here I get to feel terrible and awesome at the same time
Listen to the passing moments of continuum
Reminisce about the times of delirium

Sinking deep into the uncaring
the wan zombie-state
are corpses wrong to often blink?
I go to the bar where dead men drink

here the waiters (waiting to pass on) influence the living
manipulating their lives
confusing their consciousness
I thought there were no psychos in heaven
but I stepped into a brothel of dead men

The wicked sell *** for reincarnation
The non-malicious offer *** to those willing to gravitate in altered heights of vibration
.... I could be just numb, listening to the lowly succubi whispering dark tales
I see no fairies, it cannot be a fairy tale, this could just be a personal astral conversation.