Equilibrium
May the stars ever fall upon your sleeping brow,
endlessly burning Elysium wishes for your
heart of hearts.
Sleep falling on the back of meteors into
abysmal anopsia.
It’s said by forked tongue
and blind eye,
that sinners cannot dream.
Am I a lover or a sinner?
My mind has dreamt dreams unfathomable.
Brought me through never-lands
and planets unparalleled.
The sandman is my god.
The equilibrium of the shades of light.
His gray scale never tips;
and that is where sanity lies.
I’m no vagabond,
but beyond my skulls walls,
in the eyes of the masses,
I am nothing.
But they are too.
All black and white.
Choice is insanity when so defined.
That is why they fear me
loath me,
lust for me.
I am gray,
societally insane.
I drive them mad,
and in the morning
once the black tenderly kisses the cheek of the
burning fluorescent white,
I open my soul’s windows to it’s brilliance,
and smile.
Sinners love,
lovers sin.
You tell me,
is it righteous?
For you to decide where the scale tips?
Sandman’s equilibrium
laying me down to sleep
I pray to him to keep me
and watch me
for sanity is lost,
if he is gone.