Having seen the world through mute conversation,
and decided to act on fabled truth.
Fighting through the pleasures of toxic masturbation,
I start the journey to end my ageing youth.
Engulfing myself in holy prostitution,
I feel indebted to build a derelict home.
Where I can command my spontaneous hesitation,
and allow caged memories to roam.
Lovingly ignoring my muse’s inspiration,
I give birth to my literary infertility.
Relaxing the world with flowing frustration,
and giving a visual display of blinding humility.