Real worlds are reborn in this
unaging societal norm, serene
unkilled crimson cloudy arms
weeping saltily into all things
fragmented in the wonderland
of my reshaped mind, cleansing
the teary crevices on my puzzled
armored angel, shielding my heart
from the unskilled bites of untamed
frowning, traumatized beasts from the
lightless jungle, now on fire and burning
away all my broken desires, now flooding
the unspoken, massacred, yet responsibly
intelligent village, full of graduated adults
pointing fingers at the snakes and elephants
rotting in mind and soul, but a smooth baby
physically, giving birth to leaders with hollowed
heads, munching on delicious brains, salivating
Truly
what do we crave for?
