Echoes of the Hypnotist’s Beat

In smoky rooms where shadows twist,
The poet’s voice, a hypnotist,
Whispers truths in cryptic verse,
A mind’s journey, a universe.

The needle drops, the jazz beat slow,
Eyes half-closed, we start to flow,
Into realms where thoughts are free,
Conscious minds unhinged, we see.

Pavement cracks, the city’s breath,
Neon lights, a life in death,
We wander streets of endless dream,
Where nothing’s quite as it may seem.

A snap, a word, a gentle sway,
Reality melts, drifts away,
In the cadence of the night,
Lost in rapture, lost in flight.

Visions twist in smoky haze,
Eyes like mirrors, hearts ablaze,
The beat, the beat, it pulses on,
In the dawn, the spell is gone.


Yet we linger in the trance,
Echoes of a poet’s dance,
Hypnotized by every line,
Lost in worlds, both yours and mine