The Overone

The great GOD sleeps and dreams through Me, And cycles run and cycles ebb and still IT blossoms in my brain Or withers in my stoppages: The God in chains, the Ghost in leash to Me! O sleep is deep, and deeper still the unborn dream, And under sleep there is a sleep where walks the great Noctambulist. Bitten by the vermin host, stung by knout, gnawed by gad, IT flushes through my arteries, The rising God, the Coming One, the God that’s tethered in my brain.