The He-Devil took this life

I got sunburned waiting for the Herb today

The nagging woe

A decade of still distraught

Chronic pain, addiction, & depression—
instead of Two

In a sea of static

The idiosyncratic eye left my soul

With an assault rifle

Disintegrating fragments of devilish

The forthcoming verge

Lingered

the string of messages in hand,

& the assault rifle took this life—

But the third person I remain

the static Ocean with the new Label

You said there was a new chapter

On the Horizon;

the uncertain place without a partner

supportive of his genius

towards the alley with the

assault rifle

But the third person I remain

Hope stood with the Devil in black—

A privy to his creative brilliance

Ruthless that they hang-out

To grow up down the road

His grandfather could care less

One by one piece by piece no remorse

This musical obsession found me the Devils

Crafted homemade spices from a Mexican herb

In 2011 entrenched in the club circuits

Befriended the heroin

To make further advancements

In hand, the assault rifle

With the Infectious flash mobs

A local fixture; at the center

Took this life

In search of a reason

Still

blasted with a shotgun

Shell

To hold the air of mystery with a relative ease

But the third person I remain.