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The Number Six

Sloth is the enemy of greatness

Reflection a scalpel to my mind.

We strive as you leisurely criticize

A free ride until you find that you've dug your own grave

Lie by lie.

Just a running mouth

Poison words you throw about

Drag you to your end

The number six

Leviathan.

You've dug your own grave with your spite

You've dug your own grave lie by lie

A cancer that needs to be cut out

Sweet slander the razor to your throat

Trim the fat

A loose end to be tied up and cast aside

Left to find that you've dug your own grave.

A relentless imposition by a self-fulfilling travesty

From one who is just rotting there

In slut's wool and zero history

Aesthetic condemning

Erratic condescending

An empty barrel always makes the most noise

And I begin to feel my hands around your throat.

You've dug your own grave with your spite

You've dug your own grave lie by lie

A running mouth and poison words will be your end

The number six

Leviathan.

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