The True Ruler.

there were sheep, wolves, pigs, and velvet ropes. The instructor, was often smiling with a large and antagonizing smile. He reeked of gin and an odour, that triggered the nostrils to cease to breath, he smelt of success, and achievement. His ego was large. His muscles tiny. he began to stumble – over the time of the games… He teased each category. made them maneuver to a beat of his own violin, his red and well strung piece of musical sadness. His tone was aggressive and be-lilting, his hands were tightening as the animals were slow at progressing through the maze. He began to get angry… annoyed at humanity.… He wanted more, he wanted better… he wanted perfection… As the days progressed the being’s would lose their individuality, their dignity, their balls. And each day, this pig, this ruler, would strengthen his games, intensify their work… All while he sat above and grinned with pleasure, his alcoholic lips, lick his lips

he believes in conformity, and relentlessly begins to achieve it – Throughout our society… this man is strong, and ever-so powerful, and he won’t stop… he cannot stop… this world is his for the taking. And each category of animal is for his eating, he chows souls for breakfast, hearts for lunch, and tears for dinner. He sings an awfully dark tune in the morning, that frightens each animal, he sings it without heart and only knows the horrid words, he only understands ruthlessness and betrayal… He pawns each animal, he maneuvers them to stay dedicated, and keep up the rhythm. he yells loudly when they step out-of-line… and he strengthens their mind with his destructive words. And these words grip the soul and bring it down to his level, he dines with the devil, he goes to the games with hitlers, and sparks up a cigarette with Stollen. Drinks his liquid with the Masons.


Sociopathic angel

a painted face of happiness; looking beneath the surface, there’s much more to see –

The white orb gravitating ontop the home, as i run towards, it quickens in speed,

My heart, aches with lost hope as the spirit vanishes before my eyes

The breeze strengthening; the snow spiraling to the ground’s heating until it drips away…. as the last beat ceases in the chest where the heart once lay; once pumping with a harpful tune; a sociopathic angel sheds his last tear in the abyss.

heat shatters the heart – the ego soar’s, only for now. As i climb into bed, the thoughts shatter, spiraling downwards – negative glass shards poured down. The rainy ego, pour’s wettening the glass, creating slipperiness that the mind can’t pull up with positivity.


You walk from me, now what?

Nobody will love you like i will, they won’t drown theirselves in substances, to mask their pain; while you destroy them daily, for the sake of love. Few are this twisted, to think that’s romantic. As you pretend you don’t love me. Know what you have… panic of a rollercoaster for month’s, is becoming… too much… the romance is starting to die.


The smoke lessens – the heart beating with strength; the heart ticks more quickly, the clock on the heart, moves forward by 5 minutes, after an exhale; The hand’s begin to decompress, hanging loosely as the smoke exhales; as you inhale, it begins working again. picking up the euphoric slack within the mind becoming blessed. The heart pumps, smoke begins releasing in the chest, giving peace to the soul. as the soul grasps the smokey treasure, it takes it, and quickens the brain, Adds to the beauty of the shadowy soul. As black roses originate, they’re thorns of cigarette butts, the pedals of tobacco leaf’s. the soul vibrates quickly and strongly, and another inhale is made.


We’re attached by the mind by a “circular tube”. As my small shadow enters your mind, your light flows in, muliplying; it enters the veins and begins pumping quickly throughout. Spirtual beings, exchanging their energies, while, the heavens speak of our commitment?

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Hurts to love you

◦ What did i put you through? Seemingly its always my fault… you slam the door when i tell you how i feel? I say sorry? You tell me, you don’t love me, panic soar’s. As the pigeon flies, it happens to disturb you…. as it flies above, youre firing shots into it’s paniced soul, furthering it’s fate. You call these cupids arrows. – But blood’s flowing internally, trying to drift from the heart, in escape, from the mad woman.


As the heart projects roses. she throws them angrily.

She reaches inside to grab the projector.

She grasps it, holds it, and bites the top, ripping the arteries like a grenade.

she throws it back to me, my smile lowers – i blow-up, fire circles me,

i go towards my knees. As the fire strengthens, i begin to wither under the fiery pressure.