At dead of night in the muteness I sleep,
And set I my dreaming imagination free.
"Will these visions pass to where by Death
Victims think -held captive by their depth?"

'Oh what a shame is a wast'd mind, I think!'
The landscape of our dreams needn't blink
So dim, so dull -subjacent and sunken low!
'Wherefrom comes such limits in the skull?'

My mind aches to be in the know -not now.
"Could I endeavor to provide it somehow?"
I dream all things: Past, Future, & Present;
And if I could I'd  project it without lament.

All that I see to thee, profound as that may
Be: but at least we would be on one page.

I can make you full of life, exhilarated,
Passionate and elated.
I can make you think you’re a god,
Think you know all the answers,
I can make you feel prodigious,
Feel beautiful, gorgeous, and unbeatable.
I will make you so spontaneous,
Take countless risks you cannot fathom.
I will make you irritated and insane
Furious with those whose pace is slower.
Then I will bring you crashing down,
Bring you plunging to the floor.
Smash your head and soul down.
I will make your thoughts crumble even
More,
Make them foggy and confused.
I can make you think you’re in hell,
Think you’ll never smile again.
I can make you feel subjacent
Feel self-hatred and resentment.
I can make you crawl on the floor until you
Drawl.
Drawl with a voice inside of you,
Telling you it can’t handle more.