Ayy yo, Yo ayy

Death March


With the spirit of punching a buzzsaw with your bare fists!
It is I, Bitter Sweet, here to insist!
No, not in your heart- In your arteries!
One shot of epinephrine and a dream to enlist!

It's maid made, with a sticker too!
Not even ifrit holds candle to this wick!

It's hildebrand, coat bursting at the seams!
A blackmage drowning in a sea of kerosene!

A drop-candy flick!
Swanky ooze that's wicked slick!

A swish riff you can't resist!
Hope you catch the gist!

Ayy yo
Yo ayy

Dreaming away
A death parade

Marching to the end
Of a new day

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I normally don't write poems- Or in this case lyrics, but I happened to be in a buzzsaw punching mood today.