The Jester's Realm

I am dreadfully ill

with a disease to kill.

I am sick of mind

and tired of mankind.

I am sick of life

and those who kife.

I am sick of this stain

and it's caused pain.

I wish you were dead,

but I kill myself instead.

My body covered in dirt,

as I try to hide the hurt.

My pain of body and heart.

my pain at your cathart.

I wish you were dead,

but it is my body painted red.

My ailments can't be cured,

and my horse of pain is constantly spurred.

Growing weary of people and life

because all is for not, and mere strife.

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