The airless.
The airless. stories
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The room that stunk, it was filled with junk, that belonged to a punk, it was nothing to see, except a tragedy, as it wasn't free, it was bound in reality, the reality that it smelled, a stink it held, that never quelled, as the host witheld, never leaving his domain, the host might have been insane, as sleep was his bane, and the smell is pain, he had no luxurious mane,
By NuclearCorpus https://www.reddit.com/r/...

The airless.

by NuclearCorpus

The room that stunk, it was filled with junk, that belonged to a punk, it was nothing to see, except a tragedy, as it wasn't free, it was bound in reality, the reality that it smelled,

a stink it held, that never quelled, as the host witheld, never leaving his domain, the host might have been insane, as sleep was his bane, and the smell is pain, he had no luxurious mane,

nor gold chain, he was alone, to gnaw on bones, and groan, as his stomach as his throne was prone to condone his unknown diet, he wasn't a riot, he was quiet, might be a serial killer,

spark off a thriller, or he could be a chiller, popping a painkiller, as he had no social life, and no strife, he was simply alone as he sat in his chair, to never gain an heir.

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