A night of stars and galaxies too,
Wrapped up in black and multicolor,
Wringing out my idolatry; a ****** mental coup.
First, again, the third and forth as well,
A withdrawal of emotion, my payment’s in lieu.
To fret and to toil, for each and all,
Heart locked in place, while you stand in a queue.
To have you is sorrow, to forget you won’t do,
My disillusioned paradigm a macabre slaughter of squalor.
To tear within; your knife to pass through,
The tandem mechanization of a broken nous cast to Hell,
Confided in old friends when it wasn’t right to.
Alone do I sit, alone do I prove new,
A spark so fleeting; product of a scrawler.
A rebirth a second, a boy made anew,
The offensive given from inside, the brain is his cell,
Ever changing, ever warping, a wish to avoid methylene blue.