End of Age

A vision, a poltergeist, an aspect of the human psyche I see stars and galaxies and men in tall hats they creep and crawl on their hands and feet, contorted, yet controlled spindly limbs and salivating snarl, dead face and my mothers eyes they rip the blood from my weakling veins, the love from my heart It's crazy how their hands turn to shackles, words the noose around my neck men in tall hats with crooked-toothed smiles, come sit for a while I pour them some arsenic tea, the china is fragile but my will is strong spoon feed them hatred, they drink disdain, fry the brain with salted face, tall hats drop, a specter they are no more light slices and I awake once again see you tonight