Over and over I revisit this place,
Hungry for an incited feeling.
The sharp and degenerate idea
Of me, the jester, the invisible man
Being, in the five senses granted me,
Organic. Cursed just like all that breathe
To think, and wonder, and smother
Other ideas pointing to something
Deeper and darker and more grievous still.
Familiar; a sort of solitude akin to those
That submerge themselves in baths of ice
I reckon. But I can’t account for the merit.
The answer to it all remains elusive
Quite like I imagined dragons back then
Hiding, precious in mountains
Among jewels and sentiments, secrets
Deep thoughts in this writing!!