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 120 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 by lines written with/a razor 2009