Though many tales of death I hear
There is not a single one I fear whether it is the quick death of suicide
Or the slow one that ends in homicide
There is not a single one that can come today
That will send me to the stone cold grave
For I was destroyed within the womb
And therefore I shall never hear the silence of the tomb
Inside my mind lonely and dark
I sit and wait to feel the spark
That sends me on that thrilling ride
The one on hell bent genocide
An ending for that horrid race
That slithers and crawls across the earths face
Armageddon the battle in which this earth will end
The one in which supernatural races contend
For the souls of the human race
A race that doesn’t even know its own plac
How it will end no one is sure
But in the end all will be pure
Yet no one knows of the cost
Of the souls already lost
Once self esteem, trust, and confidence are destroyed
They can never in that soul again be employed
Remember this my only child
While your temper is calm and mild
You cannot take something that is not there
And you do not wish to walk in deaths cold lair
Ignore the horrors in your dreams
And they will tear you apart at the seams
Remember these things and stay off the path
That cause you to feel my fiery wrath
© 2006 nightshade
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/4525/84688 on Sunday September 07th, 2008 01:15 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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