Crimson with fury, my words wept, savage rage
Catastrophe soon as the adept pen touches the page
Launching a critical mutiny, crept towards old age
Primary stage, Judas, I propose to stab it in the back
My rose is my youth, I’m launching a vicious attack
Against death, that’s the truth, prepare for a fiasco
Mass blow to the head, grim reaper dead on my glass flo’
Visionary shapes from the blood from where I dragged him
Left him and returned to discover decaying limbs
Performing rituals, I swim in the pool of red fluid
Breast stroking, vest soaking, chest smoking
From mandatory sins, immortality begins
Obtain wisdom from developing youth knowledge
No weak posture so I stand prominent eternally
Infinite time to structure fierce vigour internally
Evolution of mind depends on status of spirit
I retrieved my soul and lit it, not literally but hypothetically
I hear you weak cry pathetically, it sickens me
Flood of tears to end an ongoing drought
My heart sticks to my paper, to this past time I’m devout
Silent talent about to uproar in sickness and in quickness
Death is deceased, be prepared the future is me

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