There is still blood on the omen
…..crushing the skull of your inner soul… the rushing of your
blood cells…I have no slave morals for religion…the bitter
sounds of blades sharpening…..and listening to the sounds of
howls..in the middle of nowhere as you atempt to leave ..my
misery is inifitite as my power grows…it over throws …I begin
to puke as I hear the chanting of the purest ranting…it
intagionizes me to kill just to see your blood be spilled and
have a new sacrifice…
kill cut fuck and dice.kill fuck cut and
dice kill fuck cut and dice(three times) release life ,twist
neck,pull skull ,remove neck bone and the kingdom of heaven
shall be overthrown..
Chorus: This is the end of Christ …this is where we die …were we fight ….our final hour is our sacred sobreity of death ..for thou blood locus has now been to the …clensed
A contest entry
- Something Wicked This Way Comes.... by PerfectImperfection.
900 points, ended May 4, 2008, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
i have others that genre of evil/death if you like this ,however its diff from the others
Comments
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This is very dismal, dark, and descriptive. Thank you for entering & best wishes!
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I like the possed (spelled wrong) thing u went for love it again hun




