The sellout of an identity
was complete.
You were standing on your
blood.
Scarce was the remorse
in your eyes,
after killing your
verse.
Bipedal activity has been
ruined.
And you were crawling
on all fours.
You are glorifying the
sex,
forgetting the brides of
jungle.
Can you walk upright,
stay clean
and stop eating the dialogues?