Fever Dreams

I glimpsed the Way behind the Veil,
In the Mountains behind the Dark Moon,
Where thought and dreams flows like honey,
Consumed as wine, stirring dreamless sleep.

In the Way, Love is a spear in your side,
As ever-falling blood form glistening stairs,
Descending to Nine Hells’ Enlightenment,
Where Hermits transcend into hollow husks.

Lost faerie rings expand into Cwlwm Celtaidd,
The tattoo striking into your sentience-meat,
Like cold iron bells chiming from eternity’s edge,
Rung to repulse curiosity of the unnatural Deep.

Above all, a screaming sun whispers vile secrets,
Violently plunging the seed of fiery madness,
Into murky disparities of primordial consciousness,
Driving us evermore to vacuous escape.