Another lapse into the obscenity of soulful imagination, br the hamartia of the freed mind and living dead, br tortured by that which should liberate, but enslaves, br sanctifying nothing, tearing up the hours instead. br Captivated by idle dreams now that hope has gone, br spearing night and day with some reckless malice, br scattering words and truth to the banks of the Styx, br drowning out the sky with the promise of solace. br Synthesis of right and wrong within a hollow heart br transmigrated to the plains quintessent br casts a long shadow on relinquished ambitions br raps at one's floorboards with a beating incessant. br And I will meet my end in the astral terrain br without complaint now that sanity seems fled, br returned to earth to stalk only what has passed. br The emancipation of the freed mind, and the dead.