A troubled mind won’t stay awake night after night
unless it has something to say…
a vehement ballet of scripture over paper
paper behind the hand

Tonight I’m the plain artist
the somebody
hoping to be somebody else with aspirations of grandeur
and a keen taste for success over substance

Make me your spherical commodity
buy my lax alphabet
buy my hopes and dreams
my coffee and milk

‘Arrh!’ I scream
it’s one of those nights where a scribbled line
a frustrated line
means more
signifies more than a word

Butcher of Chaos
land your cleaver within the bubble of blood
that rises in my consciousness and burst my sanity!

Butcher of Carnage
carve my perverse ruler
lumbered in his cerebral citadel
into a diced crumbling tower of sanctioned hope…

Butcher of Debauchery
launch your blade into my vision and twist!