Alchemisland

Where dark and light don’t differ I drink necrotic mixtures

The liquor in a tincture is a quickener, a deliverer

Sinner blending in with saints, no skin only a thin sliver

Over my true visage, an idiot made of wicked silver

All my friends change into fences, Pete’s a gate

Pete’s agate glows if a Mordorian face comes within vape smell distance

When I did the murder, everyone asked who shot Mr Burns

Plant the blaster on Maggie knowing she won’t get half

What I’d get in the clink for that bliccy, life halved behind bars

Should have stopped him in the bar but saw him struggling with his car

Took his arm as if to offer assistance then he met my fist where he kisses.