My Shadows drink my Darkness now,
To my demons I offer humble bow,
My madness like shards of glass,
Tears my heart like a running lass,
A mind is running,
Is it a tell-tale- heart?
With a world spinning,
And shattering it’s feet apart,
Somebody call the master for margarita is already lost,
Between the world of demons and human hearts,
What is real and what are shadows?
And what do these cruel spectators fathom?
Okri was right I have no stories to tell,
With my madness hiding in my shell.