Dear psychopomp, your identity be a vulture,
Flying above me at the end of adventure,
Come down below so that you can capture
The sight of my final departure.
Gone into a stalemate
Before there can be a checkmate
Is the war for men now many a primate,
So let reverence bloom to animate
The dedication to acclimate.
Oh to be an artificial monster,
Unloved and abandoned soon after birth
To never know what warmth is forever
And learn how to have childlike mirth.
Hope is now just another danger,
And only death has a worth.
Hail to the nightmare
Of the abysmal sea
That none can bear
To ever come across and see.
Agony now blossoming bare,
Only delusion brings ecstasy
To those who will dare.