He sees, and then he doesn’t
not knowing then, and what is current,
just sitting there, trying to feel,
as his stares, begin to peel-
back such; mental emptiness,
that makes an awful lot of mess
inside his mind, the clanging chains,
his nightmare blood; runs down the drains,
lo’ others write their horror stories,
joined with his, tear down the glories,
a dagger like humility,
to wipe the smile of humanity,
away from pride; of star; and sheep
true thinkers cry; as they sleep,
to not fit in, such sinful bog,
praise be to him, that’s in the fog!