On Holiday

Don’t ask me why I feel the need,
Don’t tell me what I should believe.
Don’t stitch me up when I bleed.
Don’t ask me why I want to leave.

I’m visiting my old friends.
Agony, hate and cruelty.
They’ve known me since it began,
And down the road so grueling.

Laced words, written in calligraphy.
Spaced out, Lost within the bigotry.
Hate all, indoctrinated by the ministry.
Love none, defining it by chemistry.

I embrace all of that which is dark.
Built the depths of my personal hell,
Led to a place on the map unmarked.
But I can tell you just where I fell.

Here I am, here I lay.
Here I’m dying today.
Here I was, Here I’ll be,
Hell of an Epitaph to me.
Where are you, wandering?
What kind of gift, did you bring?
Costs are up, Stocks are down.
And I’m here underground.
God is dead, long before,
In a box, nothing more.
Caustic sounds, Toxic play,
It’s a brand new holiday.

And I’m visiting my old friends.
Agony, hate, and cruelty.
They’ve known me since it began,
On this road so grueling.

The End

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