the storm in a rage against the cage in his brain, the thunder & lightning showing through eyes that despise the cries that arise from his own throat. no tears here anymore, we’re past that, it’s been done before, now it’s time for the demon within to make an appearance to the king who snorts & snarls in his feral ways. it’s then that the stud comes from a daze, the clouds dissipate, rationality (if you could call it that) takes its turn & comes up to bat. a clear cast of the eye looks back down at the beast, the grin that was slick now filled with glee. a triumphant giggle explodes from his face in a race to the ears of the base new acquaintance crazy ol’ hirsch has somehow made.

what’s this game & where’s its end? is there a bend in the road ahead where their thoughts can mesh or will they remain a mess in a test of brute strength & ferocity? the red lanky lad with his thoughts in a scramble gambles on the tenacity of his own crazy & the consistency of the shadow’s fury. lips attempt words but for a moment it’s nothing but fleshy mounds making movements with no noise. what’s this? did the bits of working mind come to quits?

but then the vocals started to catch & thrash & make their way, like ribbons dripping out & wrapping around the shadow to make a bow. a present for none; who would want this? yet the bay did not want to untie the knot that bound them together, instead he tied it tighter with chanted words to the angry wraith; "i know you feel it too, the bow, the bow, it wraps itself around us, so taut it cuts into our flesh, puts our pieces together like a puzzle, we are one with our temper & our lunacy." brown orbs shifting between senses from the madness within stared at the ill tempered fiend to see where words would lead; to a compact or a melee.