Screwed

If you've been dived into the deepest ocean and couldn't find the surface,
there I am.

Im drown into this world of loony.
Choked with elegants doing nothing but still can be a fuckin' rich.
Sick with anxiety of a bunch glutton bureaucrat,
that only concern for their ass.
Wipe for the pathetic world of brainless
who hoped that they will served best.

What do you expect, silly?

Stupid.

If you feel like you are in some box with no pane and a low ceiling,
there I am again.

Alone and being left with toy stuff.
Played with silent and solitude.
Stand aloof by their right, not mine.
Cried while nobody can heard you from out there.
Infact, nobody is out there.

Maybe they want me to get insane.
Maybe they want to torture me 'till pain is nothing than pleasure.
Maybe they want to put agony as my middle name.
So that they can dig my gold and suck it greedily.

Maybe...

And what can I do now while they're still chasing me after my death?