Vile

Storms glistening sporadically
Inspiration wavering dramatically
I can't move like I should!
I am fighting against the reveling, reviling flood
Evidence ov many spawning deaths cannot stop me
And the zombie maggots grow as they are left rotting
I can’t stop now — but I have no particular place to go
Mentally merrily on my slithering way
Into creepy caves ov my intellect and hemorrhage
The saliva ov its mouth and the cruelty ov its teeth
Ensnares me into multitudinous quicksand ov truth
Raining in this cave is the vile that will keep me working
I watch others drink it and it drives me to fury
Take ov me what you may — but don't take me all away!
I will remain in the inspirations ov time!
I will remain like the grime on the succulent wine
Like gathered dust on the ivory keys
The music will always stick to me
Your words will plant a grave into my lines
As my madness entwines and bewitches their minds
Weathered in the snowing wrath ov immortal sorrow
I cannot wish for a bloodier tomorrow
I will glisten like blue fires as long as it storms
And the rest will shred into dumped, plumped worms
Infecting everyone in the inspired malevolence
Ov pure, sick false innocence
Braid your way if you dare
Encircle me to your snare
But do not drink ov me within a fathomed rig
Or I will turn you into the stone ov a pig