I hate everything.
My mindstate is sick.
I can taste acid in my stomach.
My Realty is daunting, depressing and disturbing.
Acceptance doesn’t exist, prosecution with no actual reason.
We live in the blackest of black holes, that is deeper than deep.
On the edge of sanity, barely holding a grip.
I walk on a slippery slope, failing and falling down with no hope.
Where I lay to rest, spawns a black rose.
I’m beyond got no hope. I’m broken unable to cope.
I’m lost on the road all that is left is this note.