You Must Kill Yourself

Aimless priest of sarcasm

Breeding a rich suffering

When they're walking naked

a raw species is rotting

Where Angels had once danced

and lied to the pale black

now sparrows fall down to the side

and explore deception with comic irony

Like needle stitches in Singularities

expired and prolonged in penance

There lies in cold the gardener of both races

And blights variables of

Dead necessity and space

But don't listen to me tomorrow

I can bring you the comforting proof

Could go down to the maternal dark

where dimness & chaos

judge heaven and earth.