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.