Half baked soul
In a fully grown
Body.
An overcooked
Poem,
For this night
Feels heavy.
The Ill lit humour,
This sweet
Dessert carries..
Can subsume
A galaxy..
Can't take it
I'm really sorry.
Those compositions
Are musical
Diarrhoea..
Your paintings,
Artistic malaria.
Is this the way
World's gonna end?
Apocalypse will
Just be an artistic
Paranoia?
I don't know,
You tell me.
Starting with mine.
You're putting all
The lives at risk.