A Note For Posterity

It’s gonna kill me.
A terminal illness that floats over my head.
It’s gonna claim me.
Like it’s setting up my death bed.
There’s no stopping it,
No moving it,
As it claws and gnaws at my insides,
Scraping and stabbing.

It’s gonna drown me.
Force me under the waves of the sea.
It’s gonna burn me.
Drop me into a volcano, you see.
But oh,
Is it pleasant,
That I’m drawn to it every single time,
That I listen to its every word
Like the sirens of the sea, they’ve got me
With their vocal lures.

Drown under waves of music,
How can I resist?
Singe my ears with your luster
And muster up some cords with your fingertips
As they play beside my death bed!

Herald the end of the world,
With strings and trumpets galore,
And beset the earth in flames
As the guilty call out for more!

Can’t you hear them all?
An instrument to every cause,
It’s like they’re coming for you,
To snap with their vice-like jaws!

Choke me to death,
And bring forth misery,
Under the company of notes that screech like harpies,
And drown the world in music,
And never look back,
But smile.

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About Grim Meteor

Hello. I write, stream, read, dream, and uh, do other stuff. Thanks for stopping by.
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