Shaman of the mushroom

Trip happy

The powers of the warm summer have left me

Left me here in this cold winter

Left me with what remains of..

remains

That echoed shaman locked in my head

That crazed man dancing around my bed

He has drained himself of his own voice

He has drained himself of all choice 

Its getting harder to reach into his world

To peer past this shroud called reality 

And glimpse a sight, the sound of a booming voice

The sound pounding in my head

Locked up tight, safe and away from those who wronged him

It is his vision that is misguided

It is his vision which has soiled the future

Which has seen the future

Which has touched the parallel, the other

The brother world of our own, locked in plain sight

Fixed in place by a sheet of deception

Wrapped by a cloak of glamour

Sitting quietly as i think to myself..

Sickly play, sickly day