Cosmic Crescendo

Simple is the choir,
Sounds from their voice,
Resembled by pariahs,
Fiends friends to me,
Of my ghoulish guild,
Building something beautiful,
Standards to our effigy,
Pretty grittiness secrecy,
Seeped in starry systems,
As violent as the universe,
Flirting with destruction,
Destined to learn a lesson,
From the nonexistent life,
Happening past our horizon,
We die and fall into a grave,
Saving me a breath in death,
Suspicious obsessions,
Mentioned to me from the dark,
We go back to where we start,
Torn apart from our bodies,
Changed forever,
On top of paper,
From a tree,
Inking its lines,
Paradoxical separation,
Let her rip is Earth our mother or my oyster,
Credit goes to Tyler Durden,
Burning off the last of my,
Brain cells like they were bridges,
Hanging on by a thread this time,
Trying to find the perfect rhyme,
But my thoughts drift somewhere else,
Left to the reader slime in your eyes,
Signs that we have something special,
Pedal to the metal and try stopping us,
It's blood or bust for us juggernauts,
Jumping off the edge where nobody is left,
Zip past vanilla lifers where they go to rest,
I'd rather end it rock hard with a cigarette,
As a citizen to channels filled with static,
Not as complete but making out images,
Where we feed the flicker to the fire,
Psych wards in need for cosmic ghost writers,
Higher than we have ever been before,
Knocking on doors after losing sanity,
A tragedy for the rest of society,
To never know the things they don't,
Won't help them grow without a seed,
For some of us won't make it,
Picking the weak from under,
Life's nine inch stiletto,
Twisted in the clutches,
Of reason.