Waltzing into a Morning Glory

Mysteries inhaled within a dim mind,
magpies crowd upon the rotting dead.
Redwoods reaching in a forest of dark,
balanced upon the edge of new dread.
Bow your head in a solemn reverence
as pious thoughts bleed unto the soul.
Finding your way in a Cave of Hades,
or live life through a crystal fish bowl.
Shaking your head at an ignited spark;
9 volt battery to the tip of your tongue;
while shaking a faithless nerve to tears;
touch once again and devour the eclipse.
Leaning upon a fence near a lighted pole,
a long sip of whisky brings home regrets.
Screaming fantasy, or an alcoholic dream.
Think I'll just waltz into a morning glory.