A whole year that felt like that warmth under the covers when you have to leave to step outside
My rimed heart stirs like a prison guard bribed from sleep
To, if not proper rhythm, than doggerel rhyme at least
Weed keeps me keen and free
But renders me dreamless
So I must dream freely without sleep
What I want and what will be
Twinned in a pink beam aimed at God’s face
Removing all chance and latency
From fate through blood-bathed rites
Bloodstained escapades
About which even de Sade would not write.
Alchemisland 
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