am i really that bad?
punish me with all i deserve
all the sins i preserve
please, be mad
i've hurt you and
i am dizzy all the time
spill the content of this land
my galaxy intertwined mind

nothing is right
can't collect the strings of my mind

i am to do whatever you say
and i know i've been bad
but the world is so sad
incomparable to your eyes gray

i'm not myself any longer
i tried to be stronger
but a mere walker can't overwalk fate
when standing before hell's gate

blurry, the clouds are so blurry
i try to walk them but i keep falling
destiny's eyes keep rolling
Fortunae's flurry

i keep rushing into things
i keep falling into abeyance
i keep thinking of my old wings
i keep noticing your absence

my skin's not bruised enough
for you to forgive, is it?
my heart's not rough
with sadness it is lit

don't come near
but don't leave me
a single shed tear
isn't enough to see

so, please, punish me with all I deserve,
all the sins I preserve,
a mere walker can't over walk fate
when standing before hell's gate

somewhere in the woods
a wolf is singing his lonsome song
to the moon changing his moods
a love story, thousand of years long

i get closer as i listen
set off green balloons to the galaxy
filled with nothing but fallacies
a glimpse of hope alighten

is this a dream?
is it a nightmare?
because, i know it can seem
like the green balloons are
filled with faults and cries
but success is born from failed tries

so, will we ever bloom?
all i ever think of's my doom
because my soul is black,
because i can never go back.

Life seems to be a divergent efflorescence of orchids
Orchestrated and resembling a defiant symphony's iridescent who
Ignites incognito a mood, a mood which perscrutates for a delinquent doom

People’s rhymes sold in auctions, please take caution
Of the window washing smileys panhandling toxins
Give no option, moshing many minerals
Cocktail parties are more hardy maybe visceral
Rock the mini marts when the boys tumble out
To cull clerks hurtin’ in no cocktail lounge
Shout outs as loud as the whole neighborhood
Mounds of scatter chips blitz grub to scrounge
Shout out to the clerk, sorry we’re super drunk
How bout not being a dupe or **** you entertainment monks
Who’d of thunk these the spunky thinkers of tomorrow

The demonic doubts demand demolition as
Corruption cries to conscious construction
Like a magician with tricks up his sleeves
The Art of Illusion, to trick and deceive

When it comes to masks the masquerade wont last
The cracks of time pushing future, past
And presently resembling the arch-nemesis assembly
The crafting of crows to call back serenity

With harshened voices, hoarse from hearing
With blacked out eyes and sores still bleeding
The information stream no longer receiving
Dull and numb they succumb unfeeling

Death, destruction and ****** demise
Shuffling heads down and lowered eyes
To touch the spawn is to provoke what lies
Further than six feet under buried heights

To fall so soon is to embrace your doom
We all have clocks that cluck their tunes
A cuckoo clock that counts down too
Moments from eternal midnight you bloom

A lunar flower, lunaticus spores
You feel the rush from opened pores
The fear irrational yet perpetuates your heartbeat
The hands line up and the springs they squeak

Laying down and without a sound
The judgement of time, a crown renouned
A wooden box to return to Earth
What Earth condemned to live and learn

most things are ****.
the spectacle goes on.
the last **** of the human species.
we're all doomed, but this has nothing
to do with you and me
now in this room, our bodies
and the heat between them.
let's get high and ****.