When i pull the wind closer
Lay it naked before my keen eyes
Searching for stanzas hidden
They call me mad

When i look at the blood
Fluttering from my veins
Soaking me to my soles
And i laugh
Like a triumphant warrior
They call me crazy

My nights i have slaughtered
For the gods of inspiration
And i wondered at night
Like a broken lion
They call me insane

But i am a poet on a quest
To best lay my tent
Where generation
Shall peacefully rest