In the black, humid tunnels of clouded vision
where pipers are paid to hush calamity
and the souls of skeletons adhere to forbidden
pushing whispers of thought's public opinion.
The alluring alley of cowardly escapades
alters narrow minds and their sinuous route
like bipolar magnets fluxing compass charades,
coordinates spin during times of solitude.
To dampen the thunder in mental basements
brewing like home-kit craft beers,
the lightning strikes and fear laments
after an orgasm of resentment.