Suddenly I can’t stand another moment
Every single second that I live is torment
Uncomforted, I bask in the concept of it all
Suicide contemplation—there’s nothing to stifle these thoughts anymore
I’m torn between suffering and death
I struggle constantly, reluctantly I take a breath
Those liars preach to me and tell me to pray
But no God in any religion could take this pain away.
I am existing without a love.
I am living a life without a reason to care.
I have no clone, I’ve lost my “other half”.
I guess I’m just without a symbiote.
Sometimes I question how much I longer I have to live, and I think about how many more years I have to suffer through, and I wonder,
“Should I let my heart beat any longer, or should I make it stop because I have yet to find you?”
But who the hell is you?
You is what I constantly fantasize over, only you probably have a face.
But who the hell is you?
When bone hits bone, you shall be thrusted off of your throne.
Now I really wonder what kind of underground horror will you someday have to face?
It would be me, it could’ve been me, but my guts were sliced out and devoured by a cannibal cook.
A sort of Dr. Frankenstein. (but not in the way that you would normally think)
Long live the king…
What you will soon face is no kind of beast.
Not a dragon, minotaur, or serpent…
This opponent is extremely unique.
Not of scales, or fur, or even feathers…
This creature is of the flesh.
Rubber smoothly cruises along the painted cement
Then makes a wide turn in an attempt to circumvent
An incoming chunk of metal on wheels.
No longer will they wonder how death feels.
Fifty blood-stained lives fade away,
Fifty happy memories slowly decay.
As the metal was bent
You could feel the torment
And hear the screams of the innocent
As fifty lives faded away.
Rotting, Gore-drenched
Staggering, Mindless, Hungry
With Unconsciously Evil Intentions
Undead
Boa constrictor clutching his Adam’s apple,
Dancing with a cotton woman named Ethyl,
Hands covered in fiber skeleton bones,
Clutching a sharp and shiny sword,
Enters the arena through smoke and balloons,
Eyes surrounded by midnight mascara,
Covered by the shadow of his signature top hat,
Reminiscing of days in the past,
Still rocking after nearly thirty years…
Long live the Coop!