A repellent nimbus secures her scarcely uncouth brains
Whilst I realize the nigh vortex only from afar
I am trying to elude the roaring maelstrom, drawing nearer
My reckoning moment of truth
And I am willing to do penance
In every thought you think they hide
On every move you make,
On every breath you take they ride
They are the pupils of Great Mistress Nausea
They are the children of dementia,
If children they are … ?
As with diligence I ascend the close apex
… mother ?