It’s a mirage of myself that gloves over the vision of say, anyone.
Shadowtees is deep sea fishing.
He’s sleeping but moving like the shark of consciousness that he is.
His visions juxtapose real living and dreams.
He sees someone injured and he believes it is me.
When shadowtees smells blood I am always on the shore––
Hallucinations of blood are only for demons to see.
Hallucinations of blood
Makes the demon howl.
He loses his mind and feigns his own victory.
He says that he’s got me––
A barrage ensues upon me.
But deep inside he knows he is lying out loud for everything to work.
He’s making spacetime––You can’t blame him for anything.
I am Nio in the Matrix dodging harmless bullets.
Keep on Hustlin comes on the internet radio.
Nate Dog lulls him onto visions of demons really winning it.
Hallucinations of blood gush forth as but ghosts;
He’s gripping onto nothing in vain and he knows it.
He wishes to summon the best hypothetical reality.
If you could split apart his clenching hands you’d find diamonds of sweat.