official al pacino fan club

contemplation is poison, destroying my peace of mind
bathing in streams of doubt,
the bleak and the sorrow; lethal once intertwined

every thought is destructive, every memory; a burden
how to forbid these qualms
from plaguing all senses, is yet uncertain

the illusion of utopia; what everything could be
reclining into a sky diaphanous,
made of clean, incandescent ivory 

to ache or to chase, to escape from the feel,
this mind must decide
whether to roam or stand still