Mad Spiral

Weaponized irregularity
To what do I owe the pleasure?
This constant droning pressure
Since the day of my clarity

Day in and day out
Just spiders up the spout
The rain will always come
Leaving us all deaf and dumb

Infinite in depth and size
Cut away your useless ties
All the way down to the very roots
Know, there’s no such thing as a truce

I’m no more a sheep
Than you are a swine
Oh little imp
You’ll never be mine

As sure as the flames will burn me
I keep a trembling but firm grip
Feel the sting of the grand whip
And let out the screams of a banshee

Mad spiral, mad spiral
Watch us all remain feral
Ruled by the tide, by the cycle
Shame upon shame-- the homicidal
The ignorant lost in their denial
Drowning out the primal sirens
Of every revival