Is the occultist aware she’s daring,
That she carries the shadiest orifice?
No.
She just defecates and scars remain.
Akin to the likes of an unmarketable comedian:
passion on one side, narcissism on the other.
‘Twas unforeseen.
Enemies working together,
Exchanging callous banknotes.
No one had foreseen this.
Eventually, she’ll cripple
from depositing and withdrawing.
But no one knows.
No one can ever know.
A phenomenon known lone
To the great one
For in accord they both are
Otherwise called a failure
When I came, the roof trickles
The wall disintegrates
The barn full less
Our good for carts
I left the roof without leakage
The wall integrated
Our harvests unmarketable
And our roads for automobile
I am because I make marks
And not as I detach made marks
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