A self-inflicted bullet to the brain is an artist's validation

The pain was real

The world's greased, watch your step or you might slip and fall off of it,
Serpent in the garden where you're walking, show cautiousness

And nothing really grows there in the shadow of the Pyramid,
Of our plutonomy,
But honestly,
from the top the image probably isn't that vivid

That we're rats in the labyrinth scolded for eating cheese,
That we're lepers on our island rebuked for our disease

Once a pigeon ascends with doves, all in the name of peace,
The thin air is too comfortable, to return him to the streets

Hypnotized by a box framed with Rose-Colored glass
While The Owl burns bright and The Baphomet laughs

Her face was tainted by beauty.
Her body repulsively covered in curves
The way her **** sat in her thong looked completely absurd!
Her ******* were too round and her eyes too seductive
Her bare midriff, so smooth, left me aghast and disgusted
Her smile was too bright, hurt my eyes, left me blinded,
Shut your mouth woman! I had to say but kindly
Her hair was too thick, too shiny as it fell upon her shoulders
She was young and her grace made her look much older....
But thankfully she's gone, no more succubus to fight,
I am thankful! I tell myself, it helps me sleep at night

HelloPoetry
Q: How do I enter death year?

A: Die on your laptop

The cursed Porcupine
The closer he gets to you
The more he will wound