Horizon Edge

In magazines, dreams fashion

In TV schemes illusion

In life the drug is heaven

In living it turns reality on us

In essence life is a hypodermic.

In mountainous waves of moving eyes

We see white hot ants living their lives

The blue antelope’s mind begins to realise

That amber embers only once will die

The waving hills droop noiselessly from view

Waiting for the iron fist to meet you

But you have the key to silence the woes

So you walk on passed the chaos inside of you.

Gathering moments lengthening time

Strike a chord appearing almost sublime

Which reaches as far as the white ant hill

the smoke belies the dying embers still

have a hand ready

keep your smile steady

when you speak to a blue antelope

we don’t give up on hope

trade in your hours for a few pounds

the trade made for robots and slaves

the heavens hard message brings to ground

to hear the armies of white ants sound

your DNA that exposes preparation for battle

against the history of cells with a firm needle

its sharpness is embedded in your veins

learn never to meddle with it nor disdain

those who experiment with a psychedelic brain

be in control

be in

be.