Everyone reaches that brink,
An unholy deep
And all you can do is think,
Seeing perversion, disruption
Hack and tear and steal from your consciousness.
We all see a glimpse of individual breaking steps:
Some indulge in self-destruction,
Battering and overloading all their senses,
Destroying themselves from the outside to within.
A few ex-ploooo
with emotion, a tragically beautiful mechanism
Unleashing a destructive cloud of unmaintainable
Horror and despair, a
cocktail of a certain
The last ones, a pitiful group, ironically, implode.
These ones, my hearts cries for. Their mode,
Slowly eating them away, inside out,
demented and unforgivable pain.
Beneath a brave and brilliant
facade, internal damage
leaves a mere husk of
a daily phenomenon:
Pity the living, for the dead feel nothing.