Of the Eros and Ego, an urge for construction
The defective goes by his own hands
The superior prototype fears death
As weak of strong will, plead for destruction

Short tooth cuts itself on long days
His darkened skin’s been burning for years

Illusory desire flickers fluorescent
He sits on the corner of bed, undressed
The lamp is proving an effective distraction
Waiting to see the state in between
Dust of his body will fly in to blind him

Day to day in repair, a drone in reaction
In the corner, stuck for years
He plays the same tape on loop
Brute force repeating to delay self destruction

Thanatos’ white stripes have stayed here for years
He cuts his short teeth upon further long days.