Screams of silence fill the room,
I await my impending doom.
Checking my pepe gallery,
What is my salary?
For living in the same, wretched, world as this filthy garbage,
On the populi I will rain my carnage.
This existence is but a cheap whore,
It will bore and it will make sore.
I\'ve got a date to keep, I have mothers to make weep, be more than a useless creep, like a frog I will leap into the abyssal deep.
Broken, bruised,
Beaten and abused,
This mortal plane cannot contain me,
Only God can claim me.