Such lucid dreams for a madman
Sleepless knights and wandering halls.
Does the day really care for your name?
Or has it left you just the same
Another poet, pauper or prince
within this space our words do mince
of liquid love and darkest nights
ballyhoo and midnight fights.
What calls these cannons ringing blare
days of yore without a care
Charles, Andy, Jean and I doesnt
matter all will die.
What razors edge will cut the poets tongue
and bind the painters wrists as the
gilded non common corpus judge
from chairs to high to truly see
what passion lives in the depths of