Dismembered Paragon

Your consequential temperamental ill behavior
Have no consciousness of the consequences on hold
Countdown to the sequential numbers on the clock
You’re five minutes past the point I would’ve explode.

You erected this iron stronghold, bolts and locks, on your own
But with the scraps of all my belongings, left of this warzone
I’ve gone MacGyver and built a tank to bring that fortress down
So you better tell that acerbated self-confidence to hide under your gown.

Was it better when you had big flapping wings,
To blew me over and fly above me as you laugh off manically?
Was it better when you gave me cement shoes,
And left me standing through all the bullshit storm propelling?

Your insufficiency’s unswerving to your serving needs
And that’s a logic that could only be product of a nescient being
It was foolish to provoke the rattlesnake while in its apparent apoplexy
To appease his exasperated ire your skin must be exuviated.

You open up this giant gap, lava, pit, and everything
So I held to my faith until I end up believing in nothing
I’ve come to embody the Jesus’s metaphor to build a bridge
To raise a million hellish minions army to reclaim what you had promised.

Was it better when you had your magic wand,
And you waived it and “Alakazam!” everything was it your disposal?
Was it better when you had me at your dragging feet,
And you could step on me and I’d not doubt the status as spousal?

Well, who would have thought that your hound dogs would come back the collect their debt?
Give them what you owe, for the pact you have signed, with the blood of our unborn offspring
Enjoy the lethal injection that growing old gives while sipping heavily on your glass of urine flavored wine
I’ve no emotion remaining of the vexation you left in brewing in the office of your contractual larcenist.

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