sleep becomes less and less appealing (nightmare logic 1) in poetry

deep from the heart of your drum-machine soul
beats the distant allusion to old rock n roll
needing a lift from cloistered mystics
skeleton shamans constructed from bricks
samurai s-words cutting through loneliness
halls of reflective tape concealing only-ness
God growing horns and a tail from the boredom
devils going soft in the throes of old ages
sages and bards and giants and orcs and mages
there’s wars going on for the last empty hole
deep from the heart of your drum-machine soul