Ramadan in the fourth wall,
Leave with your pittance.
Escape while you still feel alive.
Allow yourself to be ingrained in it,
You will feel distance in your nerves.
Escape this lowly world of torture,
You will be envied by the others.
I am God sir,
I am at your service.
I will hold your hand in this journey.
You are feeling unalive,
It's okay to question why you're here,
It's okay to come to the conclusion that you should leave.
From the light, there was past life,
and your nose has smelled the future.
Come with me towards the forbidden land,
your thievliness shall be underscored.
Thievliness means nothing when you are dead,
so don't fret young ward,
you won't be remembered,
and you won't be forgotten.
Time has no memory.
Joying away in the spotlight, I noticed.
I heard you wanted riches.
That's quite all right,
Naivety gets ahold of the best ones.
They're gone, son,
Riches are cosmic shits, and so are you.
You will decompose why this is, and I will forget you,
but remember two things when journeying towards heaven:
1. you aren't,
2. you think you are.