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Psychotic Good
Hide under your pillow and pray it’ll work,
I’m a serial killer with a Morton’s fork,
I’m the perpetual drive of a paradox,
I’m a modern artist of making things worse.
I’ve hidden myself to lessen the damage,
But my dungeon is crumbling of its age,
I guess I need to leave but I’m so outraged.

I’m being pushed by the hand of the clock,
Embracing the world in a changing state,
Closing my eyes on the past and its dreadful things.
I may be still in a state of shock,
But I feel the urge to go, I’m already a bit late,
I’m going into tomorrow to see what tomorrow brings.

I had dreams of slaughter and thirst for love,
I was never satisfied with the live bestowed,
I thought it’s better to implode a hole to hide,
Like a cat in the box, never dead or alive.
I’ve hidden my appetite for romance,
My motivation to seek a better place,
But it’s awakening to make an advance.

I’m being pushed by the hand of the clock,
Embracing the world with a smile of hate,
Closing my eyes on the filth while my heart sings.
I may be still in a state of shock,
But I feel the urge to go, I hope I’m not too late,
I’m going into tomorrow to see what tomorrow brings.

@настроение: Уже три года!11

@темы: poetry detected