Alchemisland

Abaddon’s blessings on me, almost straight away Sickly and dangerous the work of a mage The outcome’s never the same, scattershot spray Use-stressed pews yew hewn fed His blaze, chanting His name An odalisque on a table gyrating Rotating before a whore-stained obelisk A pile of cocaine for training to dependence What semblance of prodigies…

Throwing flame Despite the fact my throat’s inflamed Fire blazed, ash tray blamed Wasn’t extinguished all the way All those things I wished away Smoking swisher sticks used swish away All the problems mounded on my plate Now I’ve got no space, no place to stay No station, no playstation, no queen bed frame No…

Always been a shirker, no pin bomb a berserker Short circuit, unbeatable but only in short bursts See me in shorts looking like I need the fight purse, Hope you pre-booked the hearse. Had your cerebral on the curb, available to observe, Likely too late for any scientists set on having it preserved Never prided…

The fact that I am deranged cannot be gainsaid Even by plain sense, even well said with eloquent devices Thrice-scented charms. Vices as arms.