I watch as my world turns red,
the price of withholding such rage.
I let my anger burn until I am dead.

Lay down in your silk white bed,
time caresses then cripples with old age.
I watch as my world turns red.

Swallow the lies that I was fed,
causing a wound that you cannot bandage.
I let my anger burn until I am dead.

You care little for those who have bled,
satisfied with a kingdom left in carnage.
I watch as my world turns red.

Even after everything that was said,
you still cling on to your false courage.
I let my anger burn until I am dead.

Still refusing to let your rotten skin shed,
simply content in your tainted marriage.
I watch as my world turns red,
I let my anger burn until I am dead.

Giant portions of tender beef; bring me a field of cattle.

Large helpings of diced pork; hunt down the fattest sow.

Unlimited gallons of alcohol; brew the strongest in the land.

Ten times the amount of cheeses; let ever mouse envy me.

Tempt me with exotic women; from every corner of the world.

Order another kilogram of cigarettes; block out the blue of the sky.

Never let the chocolates run out; richer than the sweetest syrup.

You think this is too much?

There’s no need to wake up, I can give myself another minute.

I don’t have to go to work today, there’s no point.

The doctor’s appointment can wait a little longer, no bother.

My sister’s wedding? I don’t think it’s that important.

Shopping for food isn’t my main priority.

My dad is in hospital? Too bad.

Chest is hurting. It can wait.

Skin is turning pale slightly.

Arms still won’t move.

Still very hungry.

Eyes closed.

Goodbye.

Jealously is ugly.

I’m jealous of the smiles.

Jealously is crude.

I’m jealous of the empty promises.

Jealously is vile.

I’m jealous of the undeserved riches.

Jealously is bitter.

I’m jealous of the family portrait.

Envy is beautiful.

I envy the life you lead.

Your greed sickens me.

Like a witch’s cauldron filled to the brim

Like a temple smothered in rot

Like the **** on the surface of gutters

Like an unsterilized needle

Like a piece of fruit bathed in desert weather

Like oil wading its way through water

Like a vulture waiting in anticipation

Like the bank account of a wicked man

A thousand times over, your greed sickens me

Your first lesson, my foolish little dove,
is that you must bow. Yes, let your body fall.
Fall harder than a stone. Splash into carpet below.
Why must you bow? What reason could there be?
An interesting thought, my foolish little cherub.
Why should you bow? Why should you kneel?
Why belittle yourself beneath my shadow?
I am no warrior, I have slain no dragons, I have not
sieged any kingdoms, nor have I bested a stronger man.
I am not a man of great intellect, I am no wordsmith,
nor a poet, scientist, astronomer or explorer.
I am no king, nor a lord, emperor or sovereign,
my wealth is scarce, and my charm is weak.
Still, you must bow. Why must you bow,
my foolish little firefly? Because I am better.
In every way, shape and form.

Listening out for the lonely chords,
line by line.

Lying upon the lowly leeches,
laced with lust.

Longing for all that is lost,
lifeless yet living.

Looking beyond the lucid moon,
livid but lacking.

Lost amongst the lily pads,
lamenting on the loveless.