| » Poem: Brimstone |
Brimstone
written by Genocide Reaper07:19 AM 8/7/04| Walking streets of gold as I can pick up the scent of brimstone the fires of hell, turning around my soul, in some sense I'v fell into another hole. So pretentious, so perfect leaving me to wonder and criticize every heart beating. A sheltered wreck lays before me, in some need of desperate attention. I can show you heaven, but only on the way to hell, I can bleed forever, but only one true endeavor. Time has slipped past me, slithering away; the snake which lies in blood has struck the fool covered in mud. I can smell it so strong I taste it, those flames are tickleing my tongue the fires of hell burning my beaten soul. My scarred heart pumping fumes of brimstone. |
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