there s not a shred of beauty here residing in the human flesh there s only sadness and confusion and the stench oh shit and death in moments dull of self pity of insufficiency and doubt i catch myself black handed thief wishing that there d be someone else sometimes ghosts are passing through the mind both labyrinth and tomb and yet it s still unrivalled here because all things unborn only ideas are sleeping safely far beyond the horrors of decay and are thus sacred and immortal because they never had to fade thumbing at times harlf heartedly through flip books of a lonely child old silent movies shake and flicker in the dark theatre between my thighs then countless are the heads and limbs that wildly jump atop soulless bodies unspecific as they are numberless and cropped when you close your tired eyes does he then join you to this place will he cross over share your dream or does he vanish on the doorstep all too quickly disappear alas reality is such a crippled whore all mortal things are sick and rotten to the core only the mind that frail but kingly jewel gives birth to beauty love and truth so why not stay and forever make a home in the darkness of the only place you never can belong in a land sublime that some call fantasy our only hope of love or immortality theres not a shred of beauty here residing in the human flesh theres only sadness and confusion and the stench of shit and death 