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Sep 2019
Every note bleak here
Not a one is real
Each new mirror eviler
Dead end looking superior
Each and every day
With each new form learned
I get sleepier, more weary of the earth
A place where life is weepier
And death is just a church
No answers giving, no people neither
Negatives in all but me
Surrounded by the unclean
Cloaked in many toilettes
No end but waste,
To breathe is an offense
To God and to taste
And God Himself a waste
Of breath on the tongue
In the heart or the mind
An empty vessel
Just like his sheep
All've been fleeced
And everyone's a thieve
The only answer is in me
The rest of you are feces
It's obvious before our face
You've never did a **** thing
Real or lasting for the race
All you have is stink and smoke
And all the things you've killed
Pretending to love
Feigning to weep
You have no heart
Just gametes and cheeks
Like an animal farm
You deserve your pen
I'll never love you
Not again
That lesson I've learned
Of my own accord
No thanks to you
I've cut the cord
We don't thank vermin
For the pain they've given
The difference between devils
And angels is we're forgiven
What was the point
Of giving all this blood
To a world of pigs without love
But to self-reflect and -respect
And to learn a few rhymes
And how to butcher
And be immune to
Every unclean thing
Under the sun
My Father isnt solid
He was never really there
I am the son
I created him
I found me
I farted you out
And I'll flush you soon
With rains, with tornadoes
Fire and fear
What use are you now?
When all your lessons were what not to be
Oh inverted souls
My ******* is more reliable than you
No, let's change that, it's something I can count on
I won't mention you again
Give glory to what's good in me instead
Focus on what's right and real
Not the nots that are not to mention
Nothing to me now
The truest accomplishment
To give up on what is nothing
To focus on what's real
Something everlasting
Something that doesn't steal
I only need me
And eternity
She's my girl now
The only real girl
And im the only one she's inviting in
The only one who's real
If you wanted punctuation, you could have given me a computer.
If you wanted niceties, you could've given me love.
Thus is Truth embedded within Art.
Every "mistake" in grammar or spelling is also intended, for the sake of Perfection.
Written by
God's Wrath Upon You  36/M/Messiah, Michigan
(36/M/Messiah, Michigan)   
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