I Won't Be Your Pigeon Post

I used to believe I was satan's daughter

But I don't think he'd claim 

Such a weak minded f**k 

Merely blank page

Ready to serve for someone else's writing.

The problem about blank pages

Is any loser with a pen

Can modify your game

They'll change your surface

But at the end of the day

Your essence stays the same

You're still a page

And the thing about pages is

They're very fragile beings

There may be no return from your new written-on self

Though your vulnerable composition

That facility to rip apart

Can be your path to compensation

One final apology

For disseminating manipulated preachings

Teared up

Made into stripes

Until nothing is left from your pathetic past

It's an honor to die for the greater good

Suicide is a small price to pay for the death of an ideology

What's the point in living by anybody else's law

I'd much rather kamikaze all the way into the dawn