Reeking of stale talent and decayed ability
With pitted masks and black briars
While it, whatever it may be, struggles to a hole and dies
As things I swore I’d never seen parade before my fading eyes
Pages echo the mind
Blank, empty, wordless, speechless, pointless
Of marionettes and Atropine
Though Ophelia plucks the thread
Spinning rhymes until she’s dead
Thrash through weeds and monsters unseen
Let me sing the Flower Duet to you
For you never had the care to listen to me before
Crack the whip, loverboy, I’ll come running
But I don’t think you’re ready for me
Because I’m yet to meet someone who can handle me
I’ll drive nails into your hands to make you stay if I have to
Don’t take me lightly, because I can make you suffer
I’ll bet you wish I was your angel now
'Toned down for younger audiences.' - KS
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love your little rants: D x