Get Lost

You pretend to know much, but you know jack
With aimless logic that is out of whack.
Why do you whack me with your meanest words
With no compassion and as cool as swords?

Get lost you daggers that dare pierce my mind
With the filthiest thoughts that one could find.
Aroint thee, filth, and appoint thee to hell–
‘Tis the only place that will suit you well.

Divulge your menace; I know your pretense.
I cannot be fooled, and I’ll take offense.
Pursue thy menace and I’ll bring you down
To the level of the clown with the crown.