rancidpoem

gas&gas&gas&gas
lanky, jutting from the pyre
its thoughts are fueling, falling in
some evil twitch: the scratch behind
exsiccating latterday's whim

thy kingdom come, thy Will be done
its mind's a world it calls its own
thy kingdom come, its world's undone
collapsing in, now overthrown

feed that flame. keep it steady
immolate: it needs the warmth
&gas&gas&gas&gas
&GAS&GAS&GAS&GAS