Metro Cats
The city is like the one Nostramadus saw
A modern metropolis where everything happens
Life death destruction creation
Around people who inhabit this place
And other locations like it globally

Ready for anything expecting it now
And it will in a massive way soon soon soon!
For we are being prepped for it

Expect the worst!
Get ready to die!
On and on and on!

Till we are used to terror plots
Desensitized to mass shootings
Not shocked by enemy air attacks
Unfazed by natural disasters
Even accepting alien invasion

All of this and more coming to a city near you
Knocking the buildings over and slaying the people
People like us who are totally ******
Just worthless pawns in the big game

A galactic **** piece chess board
A universal ******* of death

We are being shafted and told the end is nigh
The lucky ones will be removed in the Rapture
And some more will be Satan's slaves
As for the rest well...

We are all ****** nuclear quake tsunami burn style
When our cities fall

What does it mean to make a resolution to be better for the sake of others rather than yourself?


Well I guess that would mean trying very hard. And loving a lot. There's not much that other people have that you don't, but it's more a matter of instinctual self preservation than actual generosity on most days.


So how often is it okay to groom yourself?


It just so happens that there are several fallacies in the instincts of men. There's larges pocket of open air that fester and begin to ring about change in the oldest fashion, through death.


In the end of days, it's said, that shredding dead weight can lift you.

It's a rapture, for sure. There's nothings like lapping in salvation when you know your rap sheet is **** compared to the men next to you.

Tempest triumph turmoil tomb
Seeketh life or seeketh whom
Ashes, bones lay beneath me
Humble yourself, so you can see
A wide range of locus holograms
Pinched around like metal prams
Escape none to route a way
Knuckles grit, sinking everyday
Dark puffed, stuffed grey matter
Auction solidarity is no better
Speech of silence, clouds of rain
Piercing pledging pleading pain
Thy grace, I praise as heavens open
Not above but a voice has spoken
Walk the steps downs, the voices called
Come to us, you belong to our world
Pushed dragged and pulled a few miles
Clowned faces, greet with smiles
Mummified shrouds hang like dolls
Eyes spring out like the tennis *****
Dredged with stinkful skillful spills
Rainbow colored infinite pills
Wide-eyed blinks match the flurocent
Contour light lights up the magnificent
Bridges burn birthing ashes
Torn ripped ***** worn sashes
Two hands praying, Lord save our nation
Two legs walk, it's another fashion
Rotten forgotten the limpage lives
All hands stuck in the money hives
Online tariff tragic traffic terror
Highlights viral vital error
Known unknown captured in doubts
Strapped bodies spillage by mouths
Shots of needles through my veins
End of life, foregone with pains!


©sim

what is love
in a world that's dying
what is joy
in a world so trying
what is truth
in a world where lying
is an art form

what is faith
in a world so blind
what is hope
in a world unkind
what are dreams
in a world where mind
is unexplored

what is peace
in a world unfed
what is poetry
in a world unread
what is living
in a world who's bed
has already been made

When the Armageddon comes
There will be: sheep on a field,
Sails driven by a northern wind,
Boiling water in a metal kettle,
Matters that we wish to settle,
People speaking nasty curses,
but making such silly excuses,
Cat that plays with a mice,
And those blue, pearly eyes
Which will see the world’s end
The apocalypse and people
who try to defend

maybe we’re tired of tragedy maybe the world said: welcome home, it’ll be a beautiful ride. maybe the world lied, maybe the lifelines on your palms are no more than some ancient tragedy dragging its teeth on your skin like an animal that refuses to die
no matter how many times you shoot it.

maybe i’m applying lipstick in the front seat of my car and the leather smells like my friend rushing out to throw up. we are all rushing out to throw up because we live in a time of cataclysm, every day might be a new catastrophe.
nuclear apocalypse is the new black
and we are already putting shotguns in the trunks of our cars.

you blow a breath of smoke and i want to know why everyone tells me that cigarettes are bad for my health when the sky over my hometown is no longer the blue my grandmother remembers, and why you think that i am destroying myself when the world is being destroyed and you just throw the leaflets away. we are not trying to **** ourselves here, we were just born exhausted, and i don’t see people in the streets, i see moving muscles and bones. we all want enough breathing room but our lungs would break apart if we got oxygen.

there are people who have never even seen the stars and now you tell me that elon musk wants to launch us into space. to do what?

to destroy, which is the ancient tragedy, which is the only thing we know how to do right. i weep for the stars and for the galaxies and for some passengers two centuries into the future, the child with curly hair pressing her nose to the shuttle window as Earth burns burns burns,
the only legacy we ever left.