Isn't the big mall in front of your eyes
a big illusion full of serpents and spiders,
a giant agglomeration of germs, faces and noise?
Inside your brain a raging voice squirms
making your skin itch-
is it exasperation, torture or void?
I want out of this boredom
torture of modern decay
I need towers and Middle age weapons
to kill the lascivious man,
to take his pleasure and conformity
and stripping down his nonsense
to make him scream for life, love and passion!