Thankless
Catastrophic woes, Stability? A massacred mess,
Thankfulness over. It's the era of the Thankless.
All woven lies, all penance you've caused,
Undelivered pain that undeniably roused.
What's there to be thanked for?
Thank you would whom?
We hold our own in a single palm,
In the other we hold the gloom.
Temperaments leaving temporary dents,
All transient but the scar;
It holds permanence in your isophilia,
While enigma watches from afar.
Grateful for greater evils,
Thankful for the mass,
Forehead kisses and tainted smiles,
Are faked by the hourglass.
When the doomsday is here, and all's said and done,
You either decay at best, or exist as one.
Both balanced traps, teasing out of the blue,
Who's going to save your soul, if it is not you?
Elope from the second thoughts, it's okay if all un-bless
Thankful Times are no more here, it's the era to be Thankless.
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