Ouroboros nartoomid breath The winds ****** incense A current washing through us, The ethereal voice Morosely sussurant whilst thine Eyes mirror the cerulean truth of The morning dews eusophobic miasma; The rainbows spectrum of colours Mephitically clasping the soul Dyeing tristfully the silk of Kundalinis utopia Moulding archaic monuments With the azure clay of Lustrations evanescent cacodaemon, Peccantly flying like a flag- Reveries dreamcatcher idyllically Reflecting conjured shadows In the welkin mist.