The apocalypse is untied…Absolutely nothing will stop me from excessive sleeping hoursIt’s time to get up, purify the insides of my high-rise apartmentPlaces to go, people to terminate
Enterprising entrepreneurs enter the escalatorDestination – anywhere else.Lay on the tracks of the ghosttownListen to operatic sound of the steam engine, askewThe hues mixed in a tangence of absolute inadequacyRain washing away the stench of failureLeaving wisdom and common sense.Why did I pummel my psychiatrist?For confusing illogical logic with systematic reasoning
As if my life depended on the highway fender benderI’ll be deliberately squabble.2 days of nothingness contain the electrical sparks that light the haven.
In : Poetry
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