I’m at the carnival for the lost,
The damaged and the broken,
On the merry go round all by myself,
And on the fumes of misery I’m choking,
The tune is all distorted,
Once a delight to hear,
Now all demonic,
Spreading hate and fear,
The horse of death,
For which I am perched upon,
Go’s up and down and round and round,
With both our minds now fully gone,
The joker, the jester,
The man of this machine,
Now only a figment of a ghost,
For he never manged to get clean,
This was once the towns delight,
Bringing people from near and far,
But only the darkness remains,
And having hope is considered bizarre,
The devil haunts and taunts me,
At the carnival for the lost,
It was free to ride the merry go round,
Only my soul it did cost,
So I will ride the horse of death
Until my soul has been spent,
Then spend the rest of my existence,
In the devils torment.


Wrote on: 2401/2023