WAX BULLETS

What is madness?

O daydreams, tweak your utopian strain for once and

suffice me with a satisfying glimpse.

Is it that feral, malnourished visage of the neuronic landscape,

amidst whose undergrowth roils the hiss of serpentine thoughts

Who injects their venom into their own coiling selves?

All I know is,

they do not die!

They mutate

Into delusion-mothered, hope-starved yet

overweight abominations .

But the forest fire is diligent.

While they are absolved in this cremation,

aim your wax bullets at

this incendiary mind, O daydreams!

Pull the trigger and witness

the splatter - a freshly moulded cerebral terrain.