Riposte!
My silent Friend

Fresh fuel,
blood, sweat and devils borne
by our angry white ghosts
closed away 
until the tickety-tock
sips it all away

Back into the bottle

Smiling, madly as spring
as the curious dancers revelle
locked into the furious fate--
rebels of gravity
and dark clowns spinning,
tumbling
stumbling for direction
helpless but to twirl on
endlessly

Hysteria never relents,
Dreamer, my friend

Bleeding, until this vision
of restlessness
before your heart is spent
A voice, vice borrowed black
and another dreamer is used up
then ridiculed and despised
by the mind, aged and turned.
Time only discovers the senselessness
of such extravagant minds

In the end,
we all look up

In the lingering childhood hope
while angels have always existed
in the smile of old friends.
Memorae laments only 
after time keeps on going.

Mercilessly, we laughed
at the night's neon jackets
and all of these ecstatic screams
like dying moths, fluttering
down from the wicked burn

While overhead,
the night and stars
become our chandelier

The frenzy of St. Vitus' star
will inevitably end,
when the dancers and carousels
all go silent and still--
and the world seems too empty

I still smoke too much
when I dream, Dreamer

Afraid to give it
anymore of my life
nor one more breath.

Riposte!