by Nick Gisburne
I have nothing to give you but pain
All your questions deserve my disdain
You’re the customer, yes
But I’d hazard a guess
You are missing a part of your brain
In the sulphurous swamps of the east
Lurks an ancient, unspeakable beast
He is easy to kill
With a portable drill
So a sequel was never released
There are spiders attached to her chin
Spinning cobwebs all over her skin
Though it led to divorce
She can feel no remorse
For her freedom from flies is a win
I have joined a promiscuous cult
As a fully consenting adult
Though I waited in line
And bent over the shrine
I had hoped for a better result
The delirium enters his mind
And the madness begins to unwind
On his soul is a scar
He was parking the car
But was given a ticket and fined
In a game of barbarian chess
There is only one rule to address
Simply cover the board
With a ravaging horde
And prepare for a terrible mess
Grind the lungs of a monkey to paste
Add the legs of a spider and baste
Speak a blasphemous rhyme
Serve with maggots and slime
And your children will die for the taste
Said the Sphinx, “Solve this riddle for me
What has four feet, then two feet, then three?”
“It’s a person, I think
Yes, it’s me, on the drink
At the door, when I can’t find my key”
There were seventeen swords in her chest
And she wasn’t quite feeling her best
“Look your last on the sky
For today you must die!”
From the clues she had probably guessed
Through the mirror of murderous kings
Comes the damnable end of all things
Desolation returns
And the universe burns
As the bell of the prophecy rings
