Bipolar metaverse

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 .