| » Poem: Stains of the past |
Stains of the past
written by Genocide Reaper11:10 AM 3/30/05Handed stains of the past.
Sinful Fathers, create the cast.
Raped remnants of a forgotten rapture.
The lost, lectured chapter.
Twisted psychologically.
Beaten, physically.
Torn from a world known, and explored.
Through spirits, the journey was born.
In death, the journey's endeavor expands.
Further beyond the grasp of human hands.
Hell is cheap.
So it is your mind you should speak.
Heavens free.
The path to purgatory ends with the sea.
It is, upon this earth we suffer.
In death, some times, pain is the master.
What awaits you in your dieing days?
Do you even care?
Or are you still consumed by mankind's blinding ways?
Food for thought?
Penny for not?
Mother-earths cunt is hot?
Or is it, your a afraid of being food for her, as you rot.
Lying in desolation.
A colony of mans frustration.
God's hand swept across the surface of lust.
Cleansing the planets crust with chaos.
In this wrath, I do trust.
One greater than man's.
Count it, like you do the hour glasses sand.
Blood runs into stained lips.
The demoness you once feared, is wrapped around your hips.
Fucking the life from you as you dream.
Turning all that is real.
Into a devilish scheme.
Take a look at the unfinished buried reel.
The one catching her demonic sex appeal.
Feel your soul sink into despair.
As she makes it all come to life, every horrifying nightmare. |
All (c)Copyrights reserved by the Original Author.
[ View Genocide Reaper's Profile ] [ Go to the Poetry Portal ]
This Poem has been viewed 395 times
|
|
| » Comments / Feedback | by GeishaGirl (3-30-2005 - 01:17 PM)
| Holy shit. *two mid digits up* I mean two thumbs up... |
|
|
|
|
