Cloud of Squander

Drunken on the flow of forgettion
How it feels to be
Again me

Golden rivers sweet of Valhalla
Makes me forget
That I can't breathe

Decades now, of a life I've burdened so
I will define the man you claim to know

Of all the images that you put off
Your intelligence is weak
Your mind made up

Made up of others than convince unique
It takes a lifetime to stop and think
Of what I filter through
A second of philosophy

I'm more worthy to reach your salvation
If christian myth is true
At bare minimum I'll reach contemplation

For what you claim but never had
Just so I can reach your gates
Your god be damned

Ticket in hand, cocky, I would deny
So Saint Peter can question why

The nerve on me

The nerve aching

Tooth to nail, for what it's worth
I wouldn't pay my two cents
Enjoy the hurt

Embrace the casting of the shell
Shatters in mold
Fungal spore
A deep inhale

Hurt for wear, break the curse
I couldn't recompense
Spit upon turf

Encase the bracings of Hell
Worthless in dirt

Scattered fold
A hunger cold
Secrete from scales

Slathered bold
Measures told
Secret inhale

Drunken on the gold of admission
How it feels to me
Beginnings

Olden shivers of nirvana
Makes me regret
That I can't leave

Melee sounds, of violence averted?
No

I will rewind the sand
The land, claimed as my own