Alchemisland

We don’t speak on what happened to me Some secrets snakepits, gladly held pinless grenades Domains one doesn’t dare frequent with regularity Better freeing light not see them, like castle freaks in fiefdoms Kept like cattle but in attics mainly, growing more fanatical in rafters Take the memory of what happened, squeeze it until your…

Bad habits and karmic balance in constant battle, sandwiched between An almost silver darkness with the sheen Of an oil-drowned gull, and unreal dreams of pleasing readers Hard pull, either path leads eager fool to seeming disaster Harder pull off the baseball bat, laced tastes of antimatter To perfect my art I gave in blood…

Anytime I take a dram there’s drama, tranqed on Trama I’m a tank on treads, can’t stick to a track or be led Can’t skirt the line, I’m too deadly To truncate my behaviour, deal or seeya later, grease Skirt on the line, curvy looking churchy wanting lines probably squirts Jumper former llama, jumpy gunners…