Joker killed the king one day
& pushed him down his throne,

then told all who were blaming him:
"Anyway, you'll be gone."

But some didn't get that joke
& cut his head with a string,

then put this head on the throne,
saying: "You like to be a king?"

Then they started to laugh so loudly
& realized one thing:

there never had been such a laugh,
until Joker killed the king.

I'm the verse,
I am the blanket of the cold night,
I am the night in a blanket
like caffein in a coffin,
like grey in gray.

The above text read now by a torturer to its victim.
Everyone is the author of every thing
before being made
                   of flesh and brain.

Sustain.

Go straight
with no paths.

Doma všechno hrůzou hřmí,
hovna leží za dveřmi.
(William Blake)