A sweet charismatic wave of colour emerges,
into my empty soulless mind.
Carefull not to leak the notorious oiling spill of darkness,
that penetrates the thought and reverse myself to the futile point of the being I was.

It'll erase the peacefull love and war among myself.
It'll dominate me, and revolve my subtle urges to force myself to a slumber which will never be awoken.

Don't spill the darkness that spoils my mind and rots my roots into a meaningless void of emptyness.
Spare me such accommodation which will hassle me out of my trusted habitat and free my soul only to be replaced by an horrid entity.

Maintain my cloud of unknowing and protect me, from the sinister depts this world has yet to offer.

The Kekropolis you built.
Just thinking about you makes me feel odd.
You always come as a psyop,
implemented and fake.
I scream a thousand voices to you.
Every time i see you, my knees clutch.
You are not for real.
I mustn't speak.
There are others here, on my mind, on my paper.
Leaving behind a ****** trail of despair and sadness.
I won't let it affect me.

I'd scream again if i knew you were here.
Not involved in psyops.
Not connected to cops.
Not handling guys.
Not wearing disguise.

I'd care if it wasn't all artificially implemented,
I'd come hadn't you texted.
The deep state of a messed-up.