Drugs, sweet drugs,
the lovely state of intoxication.
Dont forget the best one:
inhale yourself, listen, do.
Be your own army.
Go into seclusion.

***

Go to the desert.
Come back with the loot.
Celebrate it. Burn it. Eat the ashes.
The crown wont be given;
with the gold of your own blood
form a new one.
Instead of thorns - mud of obliviousness,
filth of despair.
The sound will be your jewell, its lustre - your rancour
- dont get too vain.
Black ants on paper will conquest your brain, body, whatever.
Welcome them warmly,
there shall be no farewell.