There is a violent madness that hides inside all of us,
some oppress the chaos, others live in denial.
Once in a blood moon, hidden in a dark room,
vibrations of bedlam, a paracosm of two.
For the world that we see through a hidden marquee,
a putrid stream for the mentally ill.
Yet with no hesitation, a dark star pulsating
you plunge into the void then pull me through.
Fret not for each thought gives birth to brilliance
as we stir the cauldron of the sacred brew.
Blood and water, son and daughter,
resilient to the universe we devour and consume.