Was this only the truth of a dream ?
Brightmare\'s design or illusion of life ?
Awakening me to a confused pastel ,
Degas canvas or Picasso out of the night ,
space enigma in a scrabble game
when time no longer obeys the master will ?
Lost in a shadowy zone of my neural intelligence,
I, the inspired sinner playing poetic destiny ...
Rejected branch in this forest of wooden pieces ,
chased from the chessboard ,just ignored dimension
of the wold of survivors ,atomic structure drawn and drown
into the metal world of a spectral elevator,
each moment wrapped in a dying grin ...
Is this all a lie or journey of a dark spirit
trapped in the meanders of a divine labyrinth ?
Machine on the edge of madness ?
Permanent coup defying reason ?
Or am I just the hero of a fairy tale for Asperger\'s children ?