Premortom
Treading emptyness
For nothingness
And uglyness
For cash
I've played this game
For long enough
Boy! am I sick off it as hell.
You say the answer is impossible
And go on with your life.
I'll say my truth is endless
And end it with a knife

Postmortom
Begone!
You evil demon that's massing with my mind
For you the truth is cure
For me the murder's pure
I'll share my wicked plesure
White thought's of the unpure
Curse my lonly maker
The lengthless shortest word