In the darkness, eyes that stare.
Crawling spiders; do I dare ?
Shivering spine; frozen face.
The Black eyes, my soul, enchase.

Dont know what your thinking aloud
Anything you should really be proud ?
Words loudly whisper through the wire
As your staring mystery eleviates higher.

Fingers warmly dancing in soft fury
Gently blowing a thin wind, so hairy.
A veil for the eye, a knife for the heart.
What treasure LIES beneath this chart ?

Evolution: a flower to the seed
Rain to the sky
On The edge of our seat
No excuses, no lie.
Curtain’s up on my eye.

Vaudelaire 
Poète des pauvres et pôvre pouète

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