Remove my hands from my throat
Let me escape the white inevitable screen
Red upon blue wires strangles me
Everyone else is already dead
The white light ate them
Split and obsessed with confirmation
Impatient to get recognized
Indistinguishable personalities judged by each other
Because a heart per day keeps the Reaper away
And hungry they wander the masses
Brainless and forever starving
Dissolving in their own expectations
Layer upon layer they change, though, never evolve
Eternally forgotten in themselves
Who are they?
Who am I?
I fear; everyone alike
Death is never painless nor serene for every soul.
Someone will always fall short in the game of the dead.
Either the man taking the last breath or a man who has many left.
We never know anything other than the certainty; what is dead will forever remain.
There are wolves in the forest
I'm the moon to which they howl
Thousands of stars ******
I'm the black sky in which they lie
Leaves fall from the trees
I'm the wind which carries them
Branches crack and plunges
I'm the sound of devastation
Saplings grow and evolve
I'm the light which guides them
Shrooms chatter and wonder
I'm the mellow forest bed
Trees stand as giants
I'm the solid ground of rock and soil
I am Everything
The world is made of ****
and I'm a joker to the story
Gone in a moment of bliss
because I didn't seek glory
-- bore me
"It's a new day tomorrow",
they say ignorant and hollow
"Seek your dreams and a great life will follow"
however the flaming lord is still waiting below
-- drag me to the galow
A smile turned to a frown,
I'm sorry to let you down
But gone is my clown
and now begins my countdown
Brown town bring me the crown
Make me king of **** and let Minaj be the next centuries hit,
flick her *** while we drown in spit from Trump the Dump, a camel has two lumps
Burn me and put me in an urn
All we want is money to earn
When will we learn that happiness should be our biggest concern?
Happiness: Hidden in society and locked away in plastic, happiness is free but requires a key
All the while probably as fake as the *** of the Kardashian, and just as far fetched as the marsian
We say we are all a part of the innocent
but then who are we to blame for the mess we make?
mit hoved ligger i trance
Mister grebet om livets balance,
savner de sidste dages nuance
For Djævlen er så småt,
ved at danse i blåt
Flammernes varme er blot,
falske i enden af livets plot
Vi rejser os for senere at falde,
dog forbliver hanens gjalde
En ny dag vil kalde,
Den må andre dog bifalde
Jeg bladre til den sidste side,
og lader andre leve og blive
I det grønne æble jeg bide,
ikke længere er jeg i live
Træets immortale grønhed,
maler over min dødelighed
Broderen græder sin sidste afsked,
nu ved Gud endelig besked
Society makes me wonder.
Is the Devil dancing in blue?
Everyone always says that the other side is greener.
But sometimes the green is neon,
and how real is neon?