you sit there in your comfy couch,
pretending to enjoy your standing,
you queue me up like a self-imposed arrogant buffoon,
when in fact your every so often sarcasm,
is a concealment of your lack of understanding,
and you assume yourself to be an intellectual,
when you can barely understand english,
and you impose upon all manner of strange ideas about yourself,
but i know you are not like this,
because ive seen you crumble on the ground like a scared child,
in dire need of repentance,
before my evil eye,
it destroys you within,
all this nonsense assuming and imposing,
and you are actually scared of mine one evil eye,
because it is the only thing that proves that you are wrong,
in so many ways,
therefore the killing silence,
of mine evil eye,
gazing deep within,
perhaps penetrating through you,
like a newly sharpened spear,
and you believe im somewhat of a psycho,
when you are the real psycho,
my evil eye is righteous in its cause,
like a medieval spearman knight,
of anti-heroism and anti-valour,
nonetheless,
for righteousness,
'tis my will
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