Strung out to pass unto the rain
Until nothing remains but the forsaken pain
And all because he possessed such a lustrous pall
When from the dark did the wench call
Welkin screeching from the abyss
Screaming their songs to force mankind to miss
And as phantasies fly as the crow
Then the spellbound whore calls Tyriel from down below
With cloven hooves and a voice that sings
To cause a pause in the spring
The whore sings deep from Mars maligned
And the burning souls in tepid brine
Cause there to be a dark purpose
That no one would dare to oppose
Stifle all sense and speak not of the negated peace
For the vagabonds must cease
Their feeble attempt to destroy
This most ungodly ploy
What sort of vibe do you get off of this sort of poem?
Comments
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i like this. It has a good flow and i love the rhyming good work xxx
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