The borderline of insanity is a lie, that holds bifurcate truth
and I'm always itching to paint the walls
rapier red, red, red.
Scratch away macabre hallucinations
from my perfectly withered visage.
These portentous nightmares escaped
a calamitous chasm,
shallow in design especially for your pleasure.
Revenge's sour melody will be my cataclysm hand
provoking a tumultuous crescendo of horror
against your fragile windowpane.
Foreshadow your doom with a smile.
The perfect amphetamine to speed a heartless heartbeat.
I'll be your poltergeist tonight.
My dirty fingertips
sensitive to superficial beauty
will burn as elicit perspiration slides
down your artificial spine,
just before I set you free
from the elasticity that is the reason for your conceit.
I'll make you wish reality was
but an apparition of a sick man's mind.
Ever heard of the term insomnia?
I believe you'll know quite well now.
 
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