I was having a bad day when I wrote this. Another attempt at Iambic Pentameter.

Never again the signs of time bring life

Soaking the cloths to clean up all the strife

Handing over the pleased to the peoples

Evil comes forth as that which brings beetles

Naked teeth do decay and break inside

Evolution to now adapt denied

How fools often try things to bring romance

Exists it does only in Necromance

A hard impulse to make ourselves do tears

Shed wails the fire inside comes from our peers

Mornings of this culture gut us now more

Baiting us all to be a sad weak whore

Yours by far your own is your own problem

Showing nothing for fear of rock bottom