Tired of the
People
Rapping
on the window.
Running through
Room,
After empty room,
After empty room.
Where
did all the people go?

I've searched all ways
but behind me.
I hope
they never find me.
Do Not Turn Around.
I run through empty room,
After empty room,
Do Not Turn Around.
After empty room,
I Am Found—

What about Him is in
he who is without sin?

In the begin they bit in.
Into the human within.

If the soul isn't split
between
Me, you, and them.

Then,
Who is this "they"
in your whataboutism?

So you went on a hedonistic journey
******* drugs, *** and rock and roll,
and then you're gonna say you're responsible
for all this generation has?

You're just a leech like me,
but a lot less self aware.
Thumb stuck in you know where.
Plop it out and maybe you'll see
What a good little boy you've been.

Next you're gonna tell me what a man is.
Next you're gonna tell me how smart you are.
Then you're gonna look at my frustration
and say "Live your best life", "Be your best you"

Insufferable deluded ****.
You took everything you could.
And you'll leave us us with the leavings.
And a lengthy receipt, too.

See.
See The Prophecy.
The self-fulfilled
apocalypse,
waving the flag
of surrender
before the
blow lands.

They stand,
posturing,
fist raised,
waiting,
for you
to cower,
before they
press it down.

Outrage,
hammered silent
by the one
who proclaims
their own
valor.
Villainous.
See no other.

Love the butterfly.
Set it free.

You.
Know.
There is real
"Truth"
to be found
outside
quotations.

Don't abandon me.

Don't follow me.
Don't like me.
I'm not going anywhere nicely.
I've walked all my darkest paths,
and I did not tread them lightly.
I'd say "look before you leap,"
but more than likely,

I'd obscure
            the destination.

Say, Have you seen
my latest painting?
It's a dog. Isn't it cute?
I could paint one of you.
I'd capture all your beauty.
Or perhaps your heart too.

You could give it to me

I would craft my worship
to suit everything you need.
Your vessel would be holy,
while enshrined in my belief.
Wait.
Don't look.
Don't turn on that light.
When the brightness shines
upon my path,
All my darkest nights...

would only make you laugh.

Ah,
I'll ne're be empty
When I'm so bottleful.
Drink to the heathens,
And sip to the ne're-do-well.
Cheers to seers, scheming
Lewd in their freshed hell.
Give thy sighs arresting
Forthwith with them a thpell.
Bartled body brandyful,
a bottled bag of burgundy.
Bourbon, bourbon, bourbon
bourbon, brandy, brandy,
Yup.