Lung's whisping, one dying last breathe,
To lay this burdened chest on a cold plattered pillow.

Curruption enters man's last wishes, for the stains bypass your notches,  yet you can be made white as snow! Not as trolls..

Digest of edgy commentary, the world's getting scary, and you pay attention to thy media?

Strength hammered, models glamour,
As if their degrees are higher than yours...

I roll on shore, a midlife crisis ship, sir Lancelot? For how did you loose thine grip?
What's wrong? Lusting got the best of you,
Following the demons, clay scultped, you shrew...

A sword of enlightening to foretell coming days,
You animal in a cage, you can be free as the hybrid you've obtained..