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Jul 2016
Behold, squalid abode of death and despair
I have found a home in Hell
Cross beset by a river blood swell
Near howling demons droning death’s knell
Satan chokes hate from the rotting air
My chamber teases lingering smells of brown hair.

In the morning roasted souls depart their graves
Lamenting unending days of pain
Down on the floodplains a levee breaks
Bursting vicious oozing bile in all ways
Acid fades the decaying brain through heartaches.

Inside the head
Sorrow festers and regret burns
Cerebral folds sag into burial urns
Thick panic erodes sanity into dread
Conjuring tormented visions of an empty bed.

Fresh skulls roll beyond sight
Bleeding black pus lines the night
Torn limbs litter the road
Stench of ***** and incense mold
Fuel agonizing trips of feelings untold.

Vile fiends dance with glee
Obnoxious jeers mock the psyche
Disrupted thoughts hang to you from me
Meek fulfillment insults the dreams of the weak.

In years future I may come up clean
Scarred from seething chains unseen
Until redemption I must enjoy my stay
Frozen ***** behind an open gate.
Town Fool
Written by
Town Fool
352
 
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