Where For Art Fair Plight?

The asylum…..

Where O’ where is there mercy?

For the time being when we could all be free?

Free of the absynthe that feeds upon the rats?

As they dip you and chain you into thee oblivious pit of the people who fare you well?

The probes as they cut into your skin and leave you howling before bedtime.

No, no one should ever escape.

No one should ever escape this prison as dreams of light flash into night.

And the full moon takes its toll on such ungodly sight.

Where is the grass that was green?

Where are the flowers flourishing with color?

Where?

But in the dark of night?

The prison in whch we fare no longer this fair plight of night?

Where O’ where for art fair light?

Where but into the darkness of night?