Sketch of Decadence.
By Stoned Immaculate •
<font face="tahoma" size=1>Gone are your days of innocence
your heedlessness has dissipated
and you now see your damned fate
peeking at you from around the corner;
the grime, pitchy beast
'tis you; your interior monster
the rusty brickwall, the rampart
to the reality of all horror; hostility
this world stakes,
a stake through the heart of childhood
desolate; you're a mangled body
in this carbon void
this intangible vandal,
rots your limpid bones.