Pigs in want of wings

Worthless,

For the lit had been fused,

Leaving my mind quite consumed ,

As my time was confused searching purpose.

Thrice I've felt certain,

Twice called for life's curtain,

When all tallied up,

Death...

I don’t deserve it,

My bed...

Made a sty,

I've been bred...

Through a sounder of swine.

I'm a pig born to hog what’s not mine.

My thoug

ht

s are off balance

No words of intention,

For my actions show malice.

Know now,,

I’ve come for my palace.

(View photo for intended version)