Acts • Facts • Fiction

I dance to the music

Mimed by every orchestra

At noonday, but at nine

My heart reads

Poetry yet 

To be inscribed

From centuries

I have yet to divine

I lived in the insidious

Ocean-caves of vice

And vanity, navigating through

The blackened waters 

Of a ventriloquist's

Incongruent diatribe

Slept upon beds

Hypnotized with

Mischiefs & murder

Deceit & disorder

Deliriums of preset trials

And amorphous tribunals

That reset tribulations