the rain that comes and cleanses up my lust
and makes my hateful soul to crumble into dust
i reach to touch my puny crippled happy star
instead i find a rusty pretty crowbar
i sit i wonder and i eat
the rotting butterflies they are so sweet
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well... what i tried in this poem was to use some positive words like "cleanses" ,"pretty","happy" then twist them,true deviant art spirit
i found this funny. it's nice to see how one can pervert such "light" word into something way better than some sappy piece. love and keep writting
"...hateful soul crumble in dust" would less break the flow of the poem I think. The personalisation of the sould is good as well , especially for a poem so linked to it. Its very odd. Out of place. Weird, not expected, interesting read