"In the drunk and dreadful nights I scroll
through shadows from eternity
left but in traces, the wisdom of races
the written words and the battles fought
I find them scattered and tattered
like a jigsa puzzle ,
a winding road in verisimilitude
to some dream-contours in the argand planes
some parameters/equations/strange attractors
in juxtaposition of hallucination and descent
from my being to becoming , a puppet/a believer
damn this damn that , your tit for tat lime-washed sins
and the conception alike of heaven and hell ,
the false laid down , upon the ravaged pyramids/burning temples
the dogmas and the cults , the very foundations
of fallacies and books written after
with blood and bile and soot
and yet they want me to bury myself
in tales of love lost and the myriad worlds
or the likes of gloom and dark and dread
like uncle Poe got lost , long dead
in life , death and dream
but to hold to what is my revelation
I find my beauty/truth in nature divine/sublime
I write my cynical self belief ,
accept it for a crime
don't make me believe your bedtime stories
beyond all damned disparity
in my quintessence I believe nothing but fractal singularity "
