Weekend Raver

Stalked by our own state of mind,
in self defence
we massacred midnight.
Raving on the disused factory floor
tribal drums, dark beat blood throb;
so animalistic.

We were so godless,
sunshine obsessed
to blister the moon
with gregarious neon
from the screaming streets
to the needle and the spoon.

Our blurred auras
worshipped the next five minutes
with chemical devotions
as 220 beats bang into
unobtainable moments.

We’ve been riding shooting stars
all night long,
on galaxy ram-raids
stealing celestial lights,
robbing the night’s sky
of the right to shine
we’re speeding
into our own darkness.


©2006 P.A.Levy
First Published 2009 by lines written w/ a razor