A wise fool once said, before he was dead:
Fluid the medium by which we desire, 
Heavy the limits to which we aspire.         
Lift yourselves free on the wings of a dove 
To practise perfection by drinking his blood.
This illusion of earth is splintering fast      
We grab at the air, as we fall at the last:
Witchery, Witan, Wicca and Wizard 
Pursuing the furies is why we are feared.
Opening spaces and stretching out time     
In a flurry of words, a congregation of rhyme.
Mescaline, LSD , can open your minds           
Walk through the air, never a glance behind.
Sublimity scares like the darkness of night:
In this cauldron of water, fire, earth and air 
See! silent assassins lurking every fucking where.