Kingdom

I am the tired madman in the garden
Reciting words I have not heard before
Fatigued on the isles of the uncertain
Thinning me as I am swallowed on shore

I can taste the sour soot of black knowledge
Coursing through my veins, feeding me detached
Like a centerfold leading to madness
Singing praise I can feel squirm when is scratched

I see patina on stars decompose
Bleeding out, a vision caused by aura
In the redness of the dawn I repose
Flirting when I see vassals of Pandora

I hear oceans whisper from each corner
Biting the back of my nape now smitten
Like roses in the dirt you love better
Nothing I hear should be sung or written

I speak, float, dissolve into deep magic
Flooding my senses with deep joy, deep panic.