I am a vortex of pain,
The God of trauma, The entity, of nightmares. My mind attempts murder, And it is dimensional assassination. Troubling demons of hatred, Curb stop my own soul. I chase love, inspiration, passion, But it is rivaled, By the army constructed through the power of reality. I plead, for safety escape, But I am rattling the bars of my cage, Roaring at the universe. The truth, lies in the lava of agony, In which is the only meadow for my soul to rest in, As it melts my serenity. Without freedom, I will die. Fuck this world, I chase the sky, But it is, Control, Denied
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AuthorDaniel Buccafusca Archives
May 2021
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