Like an injured dog having no sort,
Knocking about the world for resort,
I walk on the dark sides of the streets,
My sight sweeps the paper of the sweets.
This is the sole world that I’m trynna avoid,
This desolation cures my spiritual void,
The dark peace feeds my eagerness,
To care no more or even less.
So the solution here is solitude,
Carelessness while getting screwed,
Sober stupor agaisnt the cruel world,
Living on the surface of the underworld.
Seldom as Cerberus I walk on the earth,
A shadow-like monster seeking worth,
Searching life by trice of headness,
Finding no thing but sadness.
Anon, I fit another canon,
Being a sullen Hungarian dragon,
Tho, I barely bite, I do without sorry,
So, I rather remain on chain and write my story.
I’ve found my place now on an empty chair,
But I live in the blank looks everywhere,
I’m planting, and sadness is my seed,
I’m a sad dog having no breed.