" And I’ll profit all the while”

Justice sits, counting white rock on her scales.
Judging the minds of a wasted generation.
“ Throw the addicts in a suffocating jail.
Film them, to scare others across the nations."
Watch their eyes spin spirals, biting on their nails;
Watch cruelty triumph, as innocence fails.
Watch a world being beaten, as order prevails.  
Let us feast and sniff our own damnation.

.

We sit, screaming secrets that speed through the highways;and from our finger tips we cry out our hearts. We Spill'm across those highways, till languished love arrives at our recipients doors.  They sit and reply in kind. It’s a whole lot of blood, for such little time.

We’d sent each other fifty messages in five minutes, and, although my heart was typing for me, I felt that every word was worthless. Just like each one of these: I want to talk in ink. I want to wield a pen that men will fear, respect and pay heed to. But, here these words appear from buttons bashed by boredoms fingers; the madness of mind renegade.

I guess the thought doesn't count anymore.

He reappeared(that clock headed old man),
With a smile that warmed my heart glad.
"There's only one difference between
a madman and me. I am not mad. "
I chuckled then said" prove it if you can" .  

He  vanished a step later, in a cloud;

Proving himself, and proving me the mad one.
He is the shores, I'm just a visitor.
He splits beneath me now:
The sky calls out to the sinister:
“ Give me your head( a sincere solemn vow).

The sky changed from blue to green.
I repeated his words, with nothing to add:
"There is only one difference between
a madman and me. The madman thinks he is sane.
I know I am mad."

I found her again;  she was weeping snow
into the gaping mouth below.
Our very fabric was weeping too.
From the top of it's tooth I sat there drawing.
Then:
I awoke with my pen ( what manic scrawling).

The moon warns me with a stern and cold stare,
" Don't go talking to her rivers anymore".
But the stars form her body, then strip bare.
Sweet science weeps, as the universe unfolds,
and wee wash up on consciouses shore.  

The angel lays with her wings tied to the ground,
laughing with a lustful and lingering gaze.
"You can twist me, or keep me here bound.
I'm just a shadow that you chase around.
Come spiral with me in consciouses plays."

We fell through the clock as time shattered.
I caught a minute to catch her.
                      Then
the minutes caught me.
Now I'm captured, asleep, and adrift at sea.

She is part mountain, part skyline and sea.
Not all will see here. But she shines clear for me.

The sky was on his side, lay’n with his eyes closed.  
So I lay down a little while longer.
She spoke, then vanished, then laughed and posed,
as shifts under foot were getting stronger.

Then he walked in with a clock on his head,
and a parade of actors I could’t place
to a role. Some, by now, were surely dead.
Then the skin came loose from everyones face.

She was back in my arms a moment later,
with a smile that shattered like glass.
Then the crash:
                        There
                     we        lay,
broken
in our euphoria.

I tried to stay there, but there’s always changing here.