The message doesn't withstand prejudice. I understand the growing concern. I think these cryptic metaphors can be overcome. The queen is holed up in her castle. A tower so thick and stubborn rises from the molded clay. They mix with iron at the golem's feet. We are born into judicial decadence. Where do the limited resources get funnelled? What is it and what does it mean? Where did she go, what will she do? Where will I go, what will I do? Does anything mean anything anymore? Why so much nonsense when I find it all quite serious. I've got to get to work. Got to get up and clean the house. Sweep and mop. Make the bed. Be good to the children and they will bless your house. The knobs lock at the intersections. Where will the wind make us steer? Why don't we have any choice? I want to choose and I don't want to fight. I want to make my message clear. I want to shout at the sick herd walking into darkness: COME OUT AND FEEL THE LIGHT! I feel the blade of love in my heart. I want to share my pain with the world. I want to make everyone feel the blade like I've felt so deep for so long. The sadness of god's lowliest creature makes me weep with fevered pity. I would serve them all with fervent zealotry if my time were not extinguished like Rip Van Winkle. When the world of the future comes to know my name then we will see how late it's become in history. How the sands of time are moving away in a cold blue shift. Maybe the knobs will lock again and the heading will be misunderstood. Accept my love and I will give it all away. I will keep none for myself. I am a servant of my own soul. I am a ghost in living flesh. Wake me up with the morning's lamentations. I will plant flowers in my eyes. The roots will make my corneas fertile. The tactile addiction clears. I no longer need touch. Now only light will burn my skin.