I am what happens.
Whatever I’ve become,
And where I go, transforming,
I am a product.
Imperialistic in breathing,
I expect to end as all the greats do,
Invaded, perverted and in a puddle of vomit.
I am the Holy Roman Empire,
Something to fear, my very existence.
With existential crises crashing,
I can be… unpredictable.
A Caligula.
Angry, I will sleep.
Accosted, I will sleep.
Ashamed, I will sleep,
And maybe when I wake,
It’ll be worth it.
Fascinating — well done.
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