Gather round and listen to Me
I'll tell you about a place that I come from...

The last to fall
evils final gate...

Life is daculate
an empty container...

I sat in my chair
feeling despair...

At dawn, dusk begins
at light, dark falls...

Ex-tra-ter-rest-rial
tor-men-ting-pain...

Eight fields i wander
no time but for one...

A perfect prism in singular fashion,
cold to touch but full of passion...

Stare hard,
when piercing my soul...

Life,love,death
just words...

Words full of silent struggles,
formed heavy with whitened knuckles...

This is the worst poem
I ever wrote...