20.5 C
December 17, 2018



I don’t have a way for violence
But plenty for anger
Yet I gather the way of violence
With plenty lingered nonsense
A self declared mutiny it was
To an unsupressed anger that flows
The space I got from a paper philosophy
That nurture and accomodate raw violence
You call it any thing
But they call it a messiha
To take you to salvation
A salvation of blood bath and chaos
A nerve biting philosophy
That will spin a top in brain
A marijuana of thought
That will hit a draught in thought
To create a void , a chasm
To hold the brain for ransom
To feel an elation of sadism
From the warmth of tears and torso
Lay scattered all in the path
A path , not of fortitude but of wrath
I don’t have a way of escape
I am initiated to a world of violence.

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