old by your own compulsion,
A bellyful on disgust.
Created by your own indulgence, for the cancer eating rust.
The wasted time sifting is the sand,
Ever eluding conscience plight.
Dealt by your own dealer, with a rigored hand,
Epitomes just as the blackened night.
No trace of the bounty.
None in nothingness,
A face diluted and drowning.
Obsession inside mindlessness,
Insidious is the wax that's dripping skin melted in the mind,
The fact that keeps that on slipping,
Contortions twist, bend and bind.
The ever changing shapeless water,
The repulsive reflection grinned.
Scriing straight into the slaughter.
Thoughts twisted and then drifted.
Acknowledge and know what's true,
Reality is you've been grifted.
Epitaph will be all that's left of you,
The fortune dwindles you and you`ve never taken hold,
Should of not contorted, atoms of the f--k-ng sold.
Should of just aborted,
Instead of playing the last card.
Is this just thoughtlessness?
Or another rail laid on the track.
Or can it be pure uselessness?
In a restless mind so high, and full on crack.
And now that it is said aloud, and it's made so clear,
You're lost in the complacent crowd,
When you should of just drank from the beer.