Carry on objects of mindless objectivity  You fail to remember your loss of life  Never shall you inspire any authenticity  The world could do without your ambition less vice    Sneering at what you admire  I have already acquired what you may only desire  Your ammunitions a pitiful drop of water  Unable to extinguish my fire  Raging inferno, my path unbarred  laying brick to construct an empire    The oldest joke in the book  Is the mirror which mimics your invisible look    Does my cosmetic appliance baffle thee?  Forcing you to spit your venom of stupidity  Is reciting "Halloween is Over"  As creative as you can be?  Or are you beguiled by your talent less atrophy?