The Ghost of his own Personal Hell, Drenched in blood No idea what to do Lost memories A body count of amnestic tribulations Brought on by Demonic doings Never did I do anything, if not at all Cannot clean this mess The Devil has made me undress Voices so loud they drown these thoughts Guiding me to a new world of suffrage Suicide, My wrist is now cut Am I dead? I feel not a thing The past starts haunting me Seeing so much red Then it hits me I caused so much pain Took lives the best that I could Suddenly even in this death, I feel alive Still numb but so strong in pride Stuck in this house of evil A servant my service still remains Soaked from head to toe in blood My trophies have fallowed me Into the abyss of my own deathly ruins Awaiting warm light so I can darken it cold As life here in this house of residual torment Shall be no more Dying to serve me As slaves of the dead Hail, I am my own evil This house is the very own hell, Where I so insidiously dwell My mentality is now distraught New found memories of despair Full of fire breathing hatred Upon flesh baring atrocities That shall hence forth Within my own evil diabolic sphere Mere mortal I warn you Come visit me if you dare May the blood, my war Dorm For which I am drenched in Drown you even when you can never breathe again Come visit me, if you dare How do you like my own personal hell? JDS2
Posted on: Sun, 28 Jul 2013 20:54:02 +0000
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