Classically Insane

my life is a wasteland violent and untamed; so classicaly insane a trivial rendition, the road to perdition. i’ve never felt a time left not passing, an age not souring, a people not deminishing. forsaken sanctity,
hear me, my obstinant incredulity, a faset of inhereited duplicity. at time i see blindly, grining so finely, i tribaly hoard my own humanity, but this is my fantasy, that leads me down a wider path, a darker road, a fainter dream. knowing not what you can do or what power you possess. success of the infirm, satainiclly
a missed term, a statistic of this world, forgoten child of mystery, just trying to find my own history.
barking up the wrong tree, a beast so tragic, myopically extatic, then lost to my emphatic mind, a rigid and cold place, colourless and contrite, consistanly contesting the natural order. hero of another story,
villan in another life, empty in the here and now, starker the vengence, darker the contrasting division,
white lies in disguise, i can feel your eyes, the creeping, the wanting, the pericing, my flesh become so thin, the weight of the world touching down to my blood and bone, screaming in agony, my mind is clear, killing me out of fear….

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