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Oliver Cullen Mar 2020
It does end.

I think so, at least
This psychosis I call your memory
Paranoia, let me be free
Flush through me like a blooming rose
Another cupboard smashed
Another night with reality
You're never coming back

I couldn't handle it anyway.
Oliver Cullen Mar 2020
To look at the world sitting outside my window, the trees and the birds so beautiful to see.

I walk downstairs, I turn on the tv,
The apocalypse comes forth,
It looks to claim me.

The world is dying,
I sit here watching, my violin singing,
Palace of Nero, it comes to me.

"The world needs this" we cry,
It's parasite burning,
It doesn't feel good though,
Knowing necessary defeat.

Virus, famine, war, death,
The horsemen, gnashing, now have their turn,
The fat cat sits in his office,
Eyes beaming, grinning,
Even in dark times, his profit still earnt.

A Decaying prophet smiles, our eyes now open, For what they saw, we now must too.
I wrote this earlier in about half an hour, more wondering if its something I should keep at rather than thinking I should be seen as good or anything like that, I have called it Bamberg for the painting that inspired it, the Bamberg Apocalypse

— The End —