Monday, September 17, 2012

The disaster

The letter that I've tried to write before,
Won't let me escape the life I see as a chore.
I try to end it but I'm far too weak to leave some behind,
Await for the moment I loose control over my mind.

I know what this world has in store,
To take my life an offer me as lonely and a fucking bore.
I've been programmed by those believing in harmony, children and wedding rings,
But the reality is I fear the chaos and my life is a disaster that stings.

I saw the door to walk away from this purposeless life,
Didn't touch the blade, the sword or the knife.
Deaths songs is killing me slowly with darkness and bad luck,
I crumble in every lone moment I get screaming what the fuck!

Children with disease, people with cancer,
I cry about my life and seek an answer.
Why is this life a disaster and how did I fuck it all and let it sink?
My job description is wear a mask and consume my each and every drink.

I'll wait for the end, as mine won't be a happy one.

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