Terror and Hubris in the House of Frank Pollard

All the fucked up things trap and punish me I cannot my explain. Kill my hopeless life.
I cannot be hypnotized. You owe me. Push aside the veil to welcome in the visitors. Eyes like halogen illuminate the soma peering out of spherical night mask. Paleolithic subconscious icons lumber through dreamscape archtype of archangel. Topside its far worse - infants painted gauze peer from murky jars;
soon I'm wearing the skin of the morning star. Green locks my name fills an empty banner. Frank, what have you gotten me into now?
I am not afraid to speak my heart and mind. It cannot be saved sell me over. Fuck your hopeless world, I am blacker than the sun. Tragedy. Have you seen the speedy yes? Bleeds through the sleep onto the page. I'm sailin'...