Psychosis is an art

  
 All thoughts rot before they fall
 
 And spiral in odorous dreams on broken springs

 While Angels strum golden harps with rusted strings

 Beneath the gray melodies,

 Flannel cats play rhyme`s on cotton ball chimes

  The sun is fine but I would rather marry the moon....

 Dark vines have over grown my mind and razor`s bloom

Raiders stand guard in my imaginary museum

where insanity is a play ground..... Psychosis an art.