What does it make me
when I can no longer recognize
the blue of the sky?
No longer realize
my own shortcomings?
Epitome of delinquency
though I keep hopes
even in the bleakest of minds.
Ought to be fate's best joke,
one never weary
of repetition.
God's favourite miscreation
yet a miscreant for humanity.
Lawlessness galore and my heart
remains a relic
of dereliction.
Conveniency it is,
since everyone desires the same.
Mock horror and stupid mind games-
wine doesn't wait for my rehabilitation
but neither does melancholy
that awaits the end of my time,
whether with a scythe
or wilting flowers,
I know not.
Dec 10, 2025
Dec 10, 2025 at 10:45 AM UTC
What does it make me
when I can no longer recognize
the blue of the sky?
No longer realize
my own shortcomings?
Epitome of delinquency
though I keep hopes
even in the bleakest of minds.
Ought to be fate's best joke,
one never weary
of repetition.
God's favourite miscreation
yet a miscreant for humanity.
Lawlessness galore and my heart
remains a relic
of dereliction.
Conveniency it is,
since everyone desires the same.
Mock horror and stupid mind games-
wine doesn't wait for my rehabilitation
but neither does melancholy
that awaits the end of my time,
whether with a scythe
or wilting flowers,
I know not.
