Fallacy of Mirage

There he lay,
in a weedy lot,
on the notorious,
bank side,
next to country liquor,
And pockets turned empty.

Reputation preceded,
this grim reaper,
night stalker,
with choked breath,
and dropping dead.

magnificent way to die,
in this dying city,
where fate of man,
almost pathetic,
here, one man's misery,
is another mortal's money.

Sadistic attitude,
keeps mind from suffering,
salts one's insanity,
and immortalizes conceited vanity.

Dont bother,
And dont mourn the death,
its just another,
gratis corpse,
of illegitimate,
Child of My Dreams...