Cul-de-sac

Pride is the stilt
That keeps me low
Tedium crowned me
King of this empire
I wear it unnoticed

I revile
My cul-de-sac
Where nothing is
Of substance

Silently mocking
Vulgarly acclaiming
Your kind as well
As my

My cul-de-sac
Slowly speeding
To the dead

Come, now
Paradise is
A fix on