When the chains fell silent, the gears stationary
Once more. When sheers where as they were.

Everyman's ideology fell soundless on the
Breeze of once tainted obsessive thought.

Bullets were but pebbles now taken by the
Shores of time, stationary no longer tainting air.

A rose grew through the white bleached remnants
Of what exhaled life now motionless and still.

Man was many things but his temperament
Grew to strong, now earth heal now he's gone.

A trenchant thought cut through the rest
to jolt me out of this haze (I savour), and
as the noxious redolence of Aetherius left
the fog of Endorphus settled in its stead;
While the mists of the oraculate cast
their insidious shadows upon
my bare chest.

Lughnasadh, Samhain, Imbolc and Beltane shall come to pass!
By harvest, hallows-even, spring and summer will it matter?
Pharmahuasca maelstrom drank the earth.

Awake, awake my little Boy!
Thou wast thy Mother’s only joy:
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
Awake! thy Father does thee keep.

“O, what land is the Land of Dreams?
What are its mountains, and what are its streams?
O Father, I saw my Mother there,
Among the lillies by waters fair.

Among the lambs clothed in white
She walked with her Thomas in sweet delight.
I wept for joy, like a dove I mourn—
O when shall I return again?”

Dear child, I also by pleasant streams
Have wandered all night in the Land of Dreams;
But though calm and warm the waters wide,
I could not get to the other side.

“Father, O Father, what do we here,
In this land of unbelief and fear?
The Land of Dreams is better far
Above the light of the Morning Star.”