It does seem to make sense to choose to make friends rather than enemies
when life is so full of pain and suffering, it’s almost to the brim
you may need sturdy warriors there in your last garrison
as they’ll need you in theirs
there are fates that seem so undeserved
I have fantasised often of revenge on those who’ve wronged me
yet there are horrors in this world, I haven’t the heart to wish on anyone
not even those who hurt me at my weakest
I’d rather keep things quick and clean
I don’t want any of these god’s creations to suffer
in a cage, a drawn out torture
what does it prove?
We know nature’s majesty
she has nothing to prove
so in the deepest pits
is a mercy shown?
A flood of hallucinogenic chemical to take away the pain?
Ease the transition of this child of God?
Is there some escape, always at hand, in the mind?
I love that sound
the crackle of the ice, as the liquor fills the glass
whiskey helps the death go down
the heat at the back of your throat is calming, meditative
it helps when your thoughts turn to the macabre
I can accept I’m ugly but I must be clean,
yes, always clean and pure, scrub away the day’s filth
As you walk down the sin-filled street at night
wondering and dreaming to yourself in an endless chatter of thought
there is an all-consuming black on the horizon of the cityscape
Forms appear out of the dark as you get closer
forms creeping to you, taking shape out of the nothingness
forms approaching you as you approach them
‘a metaphor for death?’ you wonder to yourself
an intoxicated grin upon your face
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