Diabolus Miscebitur

I am mulct and a disgrace,
I am impending and obsolete.
I hate myself because no one else will.
I do not wait for after, I wait for until.
The shadows are the same as rainbows,
The rain dries me like sunshine.

This world is a metaphor,
My state of mind is an illusion,
The opportunities are arising.
We have money, we have mouths.
We have lungs.

I want to cross the plane of emotional indifference,
Reach the end and predict my inference.
I want to light the fuse and corrupt the order,
I want to slay the chaos and establish my understanding.

I have lungs. I have no heart, I have no cancer.
But it will come. I embrace it.
If I were a question without an answer,
Then you are the order. I will solve you.
Tear you off piece by piece until you are nothing.
Nothing but a memory.

I want surprise, I want bewilderment.
I want justice, I want crucifixion.
I want high, I want sober,
And I want to pry open my third eye.
It will bleed at first.

If my understanding is as black as my morals,
Then my conscience is inflated and conceded.
I only reach for what I can achieve.
Ambition is a bleeding calf with a slaughtered mother.

Where will I put it? Where will I place my newfound knowledge?
It can go anywhere, as I trip and fall and rise until I suffocate.
It should go everywhere. But it cannot, so I’ll put it where it belongs.
In oblivion.