Take a lonely stroll through the park of life
Why not kick a stone whilst you’re there to enjoy the mood?
Turn and face the oncoming sweep of hatred with pitchforks at your throat
All you did was kick a little stone.
The rope is tight, it cuts and you bleed
But try to smile as the hateful hands stroke at you with enviable despise.
They drag you through dirt that scathes your façade.
But still you show what’s left of your smile.
The ropes pull and off you fly behind hooves of hatred,
gored and disfigured you cheerfully drag yourself up from behind the horse.
The horse **** tearing at your wounds as you try to stand.
Such a crowd
You wave at your fans and they pelt you with vinegar,
acid bubbles into the bastardised crevices,
your legs buckle as you’re yanked from behind ,
your eyes falter as you watch your essence snake out into the rabble.
They lick at your heels as your mind begins to wander.
Back to the block. You come to, the crowd is cheering
They’re happy and so you thank your audience.
Your eyes adjusting to the love as the axe blade cracks your neck through to the jaw leaving your disfigured skull rolling down into the dispersing gathering.
