A dream was still fresh in my mind
When I sat up to this wondrous find...

My weapon
Is a curved metal knife...

An angel so perfect
Was put through such hell...

Standing on the edge of steep reality
Holding onto lies that no one else can see...

It's the press of the bodies
That maddens my mind...

One more bottles staring match
Out of conversations catch...

A hail stone's thrown from a speeding by cloud
In hopes that I'll join the dance...

What's this thing I've found in here?
Its true intention I do fear...

{Check back later for more poetry, this one is...

I perched atop a crazy slop
On which in nightmares I do hope...

Doe kicks the dirt, lets colors fly
Run the backgrounds battle cry...

When midnights charm has left my side
I'll return to sane...