who the fuck gives a shit what its call bitch it don't need a fucking name !
poetry as Posted by James Kulikowski on Oct 4 2006
Current mood: angry
Category: Writing and Poetry
Pitch blackness,
Laying in the utter ecastcy of darkness,
Hidden in the shaddows,
Of the dark angel of Death,
Blinded by the look in her eyes,
keeping me from the Light of the world,
i close my eyes ,
and what do i see,
nothing,
But the temptational Stare of the angel of death,
Waiting for me to give up,
waiteing for me to give her the Consent to harvest my soul,
Waiting for me to take the final plunge,
and let my blood flow,
But guess what bitch my blood flows ,
like a surgeing River of Hatered,
Consoumeing the visions,
Of your Deathly Gaze,
Tearing through Your Astral Flesh,
With The Intensity of a Whirlwind,
Rendering You Shapeless,
Rendering You Nameless,
Eraseing you From Existance,
For I am the One who Breathed Your Life,
Gave You Shape,
Gave You Figure,
And the Wings of An Angel,
I brought You up From the Depths,
And Raised You Up,
Unto The Highest Pedistul,
Of the Inner Sanctum Of my soul,
I Granted Your Every Wish,
Untill Now,
You Have Overweighed the balance,
and soon Your world will Collapse,
Falling away from the Grand Towers of the inner Santum,
and plungeing back in the the ebon abbyse,
From where i stole the Energy Needed to Create You,
Your memory will remain,
Here umong the Stars,
But to every one you never were and never will be.
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