My sheer life-force ropes them in rapt attention
my charisma has overwhelmed them
I take fore-front in their brains
and routed singular concentration
evolving dominance in simple minds
till they are drunk and stupefied on me

And in the twist of the twist
the hunters become haunted
I have possession of their lairs
watch them milling and fretting
in frayed nerves and red faces
hiding in exposed tunnels
hooked on adrenalin
they have me in sight and minds

While I have their essence
and string their witless spirits
in dazzling rays feeding them their fears
they are being haunted by their hauntings
the cannibals who eat themselves to survive
caught in a Scrooges dystopia quaking with their own ghosts
playing themselves past present and future in projections of
foamy frothy mirage minds

The Green Eagle will always find its way
it owns the blue skies
and breezes the torrents and pathos of sequelae blue sky thinkers
the cloudy heads with heads in the clouds