Goblin

Behind his grim eyes, wonders a mind of demise
A haven of gloom, hysteria waiting to bloom
Eating away at his morality
Waiting for the day he finally breaks
He chuckles as he fights for his sanity
Lurking behind a false gaze, eager, frustrated,
Clawing at the surface, one stupid comment away
The punchline of malevolence,
Thriving for violence, infernal impatience
A rotten mask of hostility his crooked smile
Leaks a silent stare of sadistic charm and agitation
Deep dwelling darkness smothered by
Laughter, a filthy grin of malice gagging on hatred
Damned dirty dickhead soaking in
Anger a vicious mentality wanting to escape
Behind his grim eyes wonders a mind of demise
A haven of gloom, hysteria waiting to bloom
He, The Goblin of The Soul speaks to himself
A cryptic, schizophrenic grotesque, split personality
A demented little bastard, pondering savage actions
Eager, frustrated
Schizophrenic frustration