I gorged myself on death
tasting the poison in the air
with ink blood on paper

Just as I succumbed
to subliminal messages
at dawn each day

Jigsaws echo across the land
on the long march
since pre-history, times on cave walls

My voice was representative
of evolution, art lives
with such an intricate mosaic

I am missing you all so much
seeking absolution, a penalty
for that which I have yet to do

I share my mythology with you
so do not weep for me
for I am gone –

A special language
putting my name to a movement
for I am your psycho poet

By Fairburn