In my bipolar metaverse
I am alone with all
my disembodied voices .
Devil calls for wisdom
and Buddha for drunkeness...
Prayer for submission .
Incitement to murder .
Why pretend not to be what we wear ?
This world is a well-ordered chessboard
where insane avatars move
in a black and white rainbow ...
Nothingless is restful
but it\'s not death ...
Just binary game .
Dreams cheat on the truth of the hours
and ghosts are just party animals
who are afraid of dawn ...
In these streets named after the heroes
of dementia ,thousands of dinos
with sharp fangs ,attack me, chirping .
I wish they would tear apart
that herbivorous beggar who gaze
continue to follow me ...
I know it hates me,because I didn\'t throw it
any crumbs of compassion !
Poverty is ugly .
diversity is indecent .
Let this polar curse come
which will freeze your impure lips !
Giving your faces the twisted expression
of suffering in desire !
You ,who are nothing but the disabled
in normality !
spinning like guinea pigs around
a crippled hemniscate ...
Always hoping for an answer
desperately lacking a question ...
Am I really this madman at noon
and this lucid thinker at midnight ?
In my bipolar metaverse
dogs bark in a silent movie
and my room a shamble
full of crocodiles ...
sometimes,happiness beckons me
but if I respond ,it has already donned
its cloack of misery ...
One day ,I\'ll kill this dirty clown sad look...
Because I am an artist .