That feeling of a rotten soul lingers
It makes me as such as a ruined overstood
It makes me tear up, likelihood

As a jar filled all the way up
The up is drenched in hollow space
It breaks and crumbles
My life is a cruel race

Satirical choregraphy
My eyes burn in unknown materials
i'm a laywer of entropy
I'm staring into the unreal

The urge to scream repressed
Slowly shattering overtime
Above everything, ought to be untold
I thank everyone losing their time.

BI⸻POLAR

IUUQT://ESJWF,HPPHMF,DPN/GJMF/E/2YI-L-QBMILLRDHDESVSBXO0XHWJ0P0T-/WJFX!VTQ=ESJWFTEL

BI⸻POLAR

CLAEMON