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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1947315
decadent poem about the humans constat struggle with faith
I started to think this world has no deeper meaning,

The further I go, the closer it feels to beginning.

Or like a hamster trapped in a spinning wheel,

I really cannot register that madhouse is for real,

And Almighty Father smirks at his Son – ‘Who is that bloody idiot running around?’



Day after day like dominoes fall one after another,

Even If I tried, I cannot push it back, so I stopped to bother…



Listen! It is like a bit of decadence in the world of ‘New Order’

It is just a mental institution and they say my life is a fatal disorder.



I just cannot play this crazy game that well,

You know what?  May this world end and may all of us rot in Hell!

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