Maladies
I have a myriad
Period
Free will
Dystopian
Broken
No hope again
Basically
Sad by default
Feeling sick
Of existing
To quicken the pace
I submit
To an overlord
Order
I staunchly oppose
I’d force open
The border
But let the doors
Close
And can’t help
But adore her
As I decompose
Finding some last
Delusional
Semblance
Of purpose
In work
In abstractions
Attempts to
Convert this
Innate worthlessness
To constructively
Gained
From my fate at its terminus
Publicly
Hanged