Bodies buried and lined in rows.
Graves marked with flags and flowered woes.
But after time, it’s plainly shown
that you’re a name who won’t be known.
If you’re lucky, a few will cry
and scream and yell right at the sky.
But still you rest in the dirt
no matter how much those people hurt.
In centuries more, no one will care,
And probably less with our climate affair.
Who fucking cares?
Just e...
My real home waits for my arrival,
twinkling and expanding with every miserable breath I take.
I’m growing tired of just survival,
and so my blood pools into the world’s ugliest fucking lake.
Why should I try
when I can just die
and be much happier
without such a boring, pointless life?
It’s my fucking choice,
I don’t expect rejoice,
maybe just some Godamn rest
without all this stupid fucking n...
