The abysmal silence around my mind makes me think of nothingness
   and fills my head with empty dreams of abysmal silence.
An interruption to the deaf state of sound would break my eardrum
   with sticks of butter to lubricate the frying pan of my mental state
      of dissilusion where you are lost in my words and thoughts
         as if I could care less about the world of giants who stomp around
            and fill the ground with huge footprint holes that fill in
               with the ocean waves that lap against the creative shores of my brain.
The rumble ramble that floats on those waves in my head
   may confuse the normal person in their abnormal normality
      of the world they perceive as I suddenly come up with another way
         to view it all from my bedroom window in my eye so brown and glassy
            as its nearsighted blur tries to squint into focus the distant horizon
               of hopless ambition and long lost dreams.
Your voice suddenly penetrates my slumbering chaos to remind me
   that nonsense must be made from the senses of the unreal reality
      that I am forced to believe is really happening,
         when I know it cannot be true because in it I am still with you.
Will you let me be as I am and dream the anarchy that I have long longed for
   in my heart of hearts and my mind of minds and my soul of souls as I wish
      for something that I know cannot come true but still hold out
         for the impossible to become possible in the warring world where
            justice is measured by the size of a person's bank account and money
               is the god of man who will forever deny himself the true truth that
                  there is nothing true in the normality that is believed to be truth.
The impoverished soul knows bliss moreso than those who live in luxury on
   their porcelain toilets that are plated in gold and
      their hundred-dollar bill toilet paper which they flush away with
         the hopes and dreams of all who suffer under the hammerring forces
            of debt and need without any hope of ever knowing liberty from
               the continual pounding of the sledge into their lives of sorrow and hunger.
These thoughts depress yet tell the truth of what is real in the
   world of lies and unrealities where the blind lead the blindfolded prophets
      who are never allowed to believe what they foresee and thus are doomed
         to follow the course of neverending sightlessness and
            can never come into the light of hope.
Truth is the illusion of the liar who spreads his sarcasm throughout the universe.