I'm delusional yes I am ,
I can see the Carcass at the gates,
Smashing your face,Pulling your veins
Death Angel has come, prepare to die,
When the reaper strikes you, you can't tell a lie,
Decapitating your head , Like a Dying fetus
Abducted by an alien , Now you can see Jesus
From being eaten alive , to the Flesh and the power
Of Death above , Into the Dead Sky.
Butchering knife cuts my body in a half,
I can see myself in Obituary I was chopped in half,
The Venom in my body still flowing bit by bit
Yes, I can feel it the skin in my teeth!
I'm so sick and disgusted of writing every poem
It brings me close to hatred,
but that is an emotion I don't believe
A music genre
that speaks of
The soul of withered flowers
the soul of warriors
The soul of fallen ones
The soul of phoenixes
The soul of survivors
The one music genre, that speaks my soul.Proud to be metalhead in a plastic society.
Reality is cold,
So am I.
To the riffs of,
a melodic death metal song.
A Soul that dwells,
In a lyrical coma.
Death metal is the call of the hour!
— The End —