I saw dark clouds,
Long brewing in his sad mind,
Like a biblical storm rising from the depths of his haunted psyche,
Bringing the wrath of sorrow raging through the doorway to hell,
With tempestuous tongues of flame whirling within,
Pale white light of falling angels seeping through cracked shades,
Dull orange glow bleeding through his sad loft of weary decay,
Like the floodlit alleyways of oblivion drenched in iron blood,
A metropolis of weary sobs threaded through time,
As he trembles from midnight needle pricks of ash,
In the vanishing tube stations and lonely tenement fire escapes of endless vibrating dawns,
Sinking blindly into the desolate and motionless signs of desperate insanity,
Through borrowed eyes envisioning the malevolent madhouse looming,
The angel wings of his mind clipped with rusty blade,
His writhing soul forced into the straitjacket of uniform illusion,
Relapse in sight,
Wailing sirens shuddering his fragile core,
Terror of catatonic purgatory cowering like a melted streak of jagged lightning trapped in flux sate,
As he watches the archangels of fate wrangle over loose change,
In the supernatural wasteland maze of hysterical ecstasy and sorrows of eternity,
Emulating the cynical stares of forgotten cosmic lifeforms,
With whom he staggers through harlequin streets,
Hallucinating oracles amidst the haggard bus stop benches of solitude,
Delving into abstract eternities from a reclusive and sleepless loft,
Lost somewhere in his cursed mind forever yearning for release,
Searching for mystical dream-like spirits of illusion,
And for the celestial syringe to disgorge and mutilate his aching soul,
In the cosmic cemetery of time,
Living only to weep at the great sorrow of life,
Dying only to relish the path,
Into the light –
Poem by Stamos Mardou