thoughts of slaying innocent civilians cross my mind
so brilliantly sick, however it's so cleverly divine
in my own warp of lost time, always thought i was blessed
but recently came to the fact that i am sadly possessed
by inner demons, forcing me to commit cruel acts
for the facts, i enjoy hurting people until the last
cry is released, until the last bitch bleeds
until atlas one person can see
me for who i am
but laying everyday in this uncomfortable patted cell
it 's hard to breath in this long lasting hell
i can't tell if this feeling is eternal
this squared area serves as my home and urinal
my life's a joke, a human journal
but its something i haven't recently learned though
i am registered as a little over fifty one- fifty
and only my parents to blame, for this life which is so shitty
as i dream of sitting in a green vast land on some rocks
i wake up each time in this hell whole, with murderous thoughts