Toxins tickling flesh..

Feuling my desire to be fresh,

in this godforsaken mess ..

Yet I.. Search for poison to rot my roots..

With two left feet I still rock my boots

and set out for war with a rock or two .. 

While the enemy blast..

Like rockets do.. 

I embrace my loss, with no surrender.. 

Then ressurect my sins from violet ember,

as my soul turns gold in ode to tinder.. 

I ressurect for death from a golden trigger. 

I just pray this time that the hole is bigger.

Boomerang.