Disorder has slaughtered our sacred crux;
Your guillotine lies have severed my all,
One year and a half of four hundred fucks—
And the last six months spent building a wall.
For this wall was built with chemical breath;
Brainwashing your will with anger and fear—
Believed what you sowed and reaped it to death!
Turned love into blood and my eyes to tear.
Now that you’re blank and your mirror is black
And the stains of disgrace lay in your lap—
As I once was there, I’ll never come back;
The Angel of Fate has riddled the map.
Our carnal ghosts ruminate through my head—
My heart and my soul are so fucking dead.

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Robert Frost William Blake Edgar Allan Poe Lewis Carroll W. B. Yeats Daliah Meadow Azmerelda