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It
written by Genocide Reaper08:33 AM 8/6/04| The number one reason, the numberless season. So much, so little, Forest of the De-Throwned. Conclude, Irr-repressible feeling. Constant aggitation, my Hate over flows, my thorns continue to grow, I look out the double triangle of a window, I see the demons face, his yellow eye, the red hot Evil inside. That demon is now looking and laughing at me.. I saw It in the Trees. I felt in the Breeze. I could smell it when it moved, I could tell it was not my Love.. I don't know why this one brings fear, its like nothing else could ever do that. Anywhere, or even here. All I know is I feel a cold chill, a frost on my spine, and a thrill when I think about the Dark Devine. Number of the Lesson, the memory of recompression. Save me? Save this...It that stares, it that has no cares, it which stalks, it which flys and doesn't walk. It won't be seen without its own Evil Deeds. I hear what it thinks, I smell all its stinks. Greed. The will to Kill... Something that fears me. My Demon within. As much as I fear It. We're both now shaken..But we don't let on. We're both now Thinking. But we stay hidden. We're both now wanting to Kill one another. Yet we're still. We both can't wait...Can't wait until We know what each others IT IS. |
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Author's footnotes and comments on this Poem:
I went to smoke earlier and saw something, and just now as I was submiting poems I saw it. And heard it...
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