Truth denied, Freedom,
spurned Lover's scorn.
not Despair but Dance.
Music in the Wind,
and Love shall not be denied!
pale lady, full moon,
spurns a million suitors' winks;
sits alone, brooding!
Like a gun's barrel against my temple
Pressure mounting inside my brain
Blurred, red vision; caustic thoughts
My best attempts all for naught?
Just as the forlorn king's corpse rots
I find myself in this black mire, lost.
Depravity found its way to my veins
Surges through me like a tsunami wave
Flooding out any sense of empathy
Who among the swine doesn't epitomize
The smoldering contempt I bear in my eyes?
Trouble with the bubbling blasphemy inside.
The heathens have overstayed their welcome
Got too comfortable traversing my back roads
And now they dare to call my sanity their home?
Never before have I been so intruded upon
Pissants aplenty; poisoning my patience
Treaded on and spurning my frustration.
The end is nigh and in hardly any time
I may just lose myself to all the spite
The razor wire you shove down my throat
May be your downfall, and I hope
I'm not made out to be a misanthrope
I don't think I've ever been so close.
— The End —