Lityerses in Rome

If I had time to think, that would be swell
Have all the time in the world, yet in annoyance I dwell
For around serendipitous rays cause a crux upon my blighted soul
Cannot complain or even concentrate as I am on their payroll

If I had the time to dream, that would be great
Always on the present, always on others I have to fixate
I just want to escape, I can't even think of what to write
Imperfect works stunted because I never can make them right

Half-written desires
They go nowhere
Burned by the fires
Yet nobody will care
Nothing ever inspires
My mind is filled with despair
Silence is what creativity requires
Yet I don't deserve such welfare
So my mind slowly expires
Not that anyone else is aware
Every scream just misfires
And is declared egotistical fanfare
Reality slowly tires
As I realize it is unfair
I cannot reach my desires
As I am trapped in this nightmare

Elusive dystopian oligarchies crumble under the stunted weight
Of abusive draconian hierarchies that stumble towards affronted hate

Heretic
Cannot escape the blighted mind of the
Anemic
Cannot escaped the blighted time of the
Terminal tick
That sucks the blood and life and time and dreams and thoughts and ideas and hope and love and aspirations and desires and wishes and imagination and the ever increasing desire to
Escape by kicking out the firebrick

Seven
Thirteen
And then we wait
Because there is no time I can even get out of this shell of elusive uncontrollable urges

Break it
Hurt it
Take it
Assert it
It is yourself
And you don't belong
So I take it out on myself
For I know that I am in the wrong

What's the point of life
when we just die
without
wonder

Save me by saving you
Save me by breaking you
Into the wall
Into the door
But you continue to fall
Until there is nothing more

An industrious weight collapses under the rule of a stunted dystopia
For tenacious hate amasses a fool that is confronted by hysteria

Speaking and saying words
Yet nobody can hear
Saying and speaking words
Yet nobody is near

Isolation
A wonderful word for a little while
But it leads to further damnation

Ruination
Hold it back with a tiny smile
Until it falters in your vexation

Desperation
With humanity to forever reconcile
Turned down due to lack of association

Transubstantiation
Going from meek to eternally hostile
As collapses all rationalization

A shivering thorn
A blackened bush
Withers under scorn
Pressure of the rush
Yet is torn
As it drinks the water of the sagebrush
Yet such an act is forlorn
The water drenches the plant to mush

Shackled in a deformed husk
As a loathsome discarded mollusk
One that seeks impertinence
And seeks a loss of permanence
The invertebrate never is truly removed
In their hollowness they can never be improved
So discarded to the blackened hadalpelagic
For their appearance was loathsome and toxic
Much better to hold leagues of sympathy
When the mollusk is separated by a vast sea