Duplicates, illusions, and fire,
Despicable art that sings like a choir,
More water to pour on my wound,
Hoping to run into the soft ground.
All these seismic regrets,
Leads to a life of a marionette,
Golden teeth poke through the skin,
I’ll take my life for a nice little spin.
Millions of spikes cut deep,
My steps are too steep,
I walk like a million thoughts,
Thinking of all the missed shots.