Everything’s all black and white
Shades of grey in-between
Recollections of foreign sites
Caught inside madman’s dreams

I’d do anything to hear the voice graveling off in capitals
Not veer into the void, his eye sockets are impractical

The hallway always extended, nothing quite seems to scale
Laws of physics here are bending, hear the books write themselves

Mimicking is not creation, it’s a flawed artistic expression
Lungs deflate, know your station, and inside your cloak is sharpened perfection

A horse touches down beside your bed
Keep remembering things that haven’t happened yet
There’s no release even when you’re dead
Until he severs the mortal thread
Entire galaxies float in blue eyes
Where something mysteriously lies

I’d do anything hear the voice graveling off in capitals
Not accept the forced choice of permanent sabbatical