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Servants of the Horsemen

I’ve got rhythm
I’ve got class
I’ve got glamour falling out my ass

I piss out sunshine
And curse my melodies
To all my fans, I give the finest herpes 

Murder murder murder
Kill kill kill
I am your systemic shill shill shill

Buy my album
Buy my shirt
Buy my bathwater where I squirt squirt squirt

My civilization, sealed, with a platonic crest
Ruled by boys affixed to lactating breast

We've cast out our halves and all our emotion
Wait, what's causing all of this commotion?

The end is nigh, they say
Surely, their minds are astray

The end is nigh, they say
Yet we live it every day

Look to any shore
Somewhere is War

Another place is a river, full of swimming salmon
Within its horizon, there is also Famine

And in that same short distance
You will find Pestilence

And with opinions in our breath
We exhale our Death

It is the apocalypse that we fear
And it did not start this year

We feared this will be our fate
{DateTime.now} is today's date

It is the apocalypse that we fear
Lo, for millennia, it was always here

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Do you normally dislike poetry? Me too! It turns out, I like writing it, but I cringe at the thought of the stereotypical puffy culture surrounding it. If I want to smell my own farts all day, I stuff my belly with garlic and onions, thank you very much.

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Like this nav? It does what every marketing-oriented web designer will tell you not to do: shove as many things in your face as I can!