Mind-Altering Rapport

The nectar of the mortals:
overprotected by the mad, the sad, the artists & the weak,
Looms through the entryway of my sanctuary

Like a caller pretending to have lost the way
Along I play, requesting no rejection of its
Holiday into my razor sharp vision of the unreality.

The competition will begin, I say,
Give me your best shot of amusements that you sport,

& I’ll respond, accordingly, you see,
Because I have no time to waste time
On anything this world can compose for my execution without me.

Isolated interests analogous to these would turn to
Ascetic lunacy: for no surprises in the
Culminations of the purpose unless there are dual blades.

We consume each other in order to empathize
The heart & mind through the synthesis of eyes
We share through one experience like two in marital vow.

You stream through my blood & cremate the past
& in concert we rise to secret at last
You in your wit – taxing my form – with inevitable adaptation.

Challenges I foresee – for I push the extreme –
You are the undead, thus, the war is with me,
I bring you to life to wheel my mind as I decide the speed & construction.