Am I a fool to dream of normality? Do I wake up every day lurking toward formalities?  Just to say what I  never mean; the dean of all things screened. This thing wrings dry dreams. As long as you scream they tear at your seams until the cries die and the tempest collides…  Leaving a war torn path forcing cads to a toaster-bath, aside their suit and stash, powdered nose; I can’t, Let the passenger inside take the lantern in stride or face judgment in HIS eyes; a coward’s demise.