Crushed peanut shells are
scattered all over the floor

Beer bottles smashed,
blood drips from the roof

A body hangs from the rafters
loyal patrons play
a ***** filled game of Russian roulette

**** stains plastered all over the bathroom floor
cockroach's and rats run rampant  
raging alcoholics throw fist and set fire to bar stools

Drunker stupors, and stain glass windows rule
people call it martial law but I call it a regular Monday night...

Let's look at this tale of Robin Hood,
He was far away, being way too good,
Rob the rich, give to the poor,
Maid Marian left open her door,
She was feeling way too generous,
Got it on with Little John, no fuss,
Far away was Robin Hood,
Really, he was much too good,
Then in came Friar Tuck,
In with Maid Marian he snuck,
Then they both got it on,
With hyperactive Little John,
Yes, Maid Marian was benevolent,
Indeed, they all knew what that meant,
Thus, this twisted tale of Robin Hood,
John, Tuck, no Robin Hood the good!

An indication.
Cotton mouth and a binding knot to the temple.
Warm exhales give reason to suspect
my tenure over this body fetal.

A reminder.
Halation and smothering darkness in the enclosure.
Crusted squints summon the gall to beg
my limbs to remember their master.

A disturbance.
Musky stench and fingers webbed to slime and yarn.
An arduous tug suggests a young female
gone for hours by the heat of her tongue.

The appeasement.
Correlation and tracing mind maps to its chorus.
A restful sigh confirms my furtive habit
of decapitating the women I love.

A sweet face of an angel
She is friends with the devil
At war with the monsters
She is hard to handle
Warm and gentle heart
She has nerves of metal
Slowly freaking out
She is a twisted and mental
Destructing idols of fear
She is unable to settle
On darkness she feeds
She is a born rebel

I went to visit my friend, Frank
I shouted his name and to no response...
this was the first time in six months
that I went to visit him....
he already depressed about losing his father
and having his wife leave him....
I tried to get his number, to call him
but... he simply disappeared
I got in touch with one of his co-workers
to get his address...

the first I notice when I visited was the unhinged doors
and the broken wine bottles

I went to the kitchen
the first thing I noticed there was the smell of spoiled milk
and the first thing I saw were the rat droppings
and roaches crawling in the bread pantry

I spotted the rusty knives, and smashed plates
the walls were filled with fungus and mold
the roof was the leaking and the doors
were torn off their hinges....
the garbage bags were ripped apart
rotten apple cores, half-eaten oranges
1/3 of a whole pizza and a rusty razor blade
laid bare...

I went upstairs,
they creaked and any second they were about to cave in

on the first door to the right was his room
spiderwebs cuddled with the doorknob
once inside, all I saw was stacked up **** magazines
dried up tissue, and a static TV.....
the pictures were smashed and there was hole in the wall
*******, rusty needles and ****** filled his dresser

I walked out and went to the second on my left
there was the attic.... filled with yearbooks,
degrees, pictures, just so many memories left untouched...

I walked to the last door on my right
that was his bathroom...
I open the door, the first thing I noticed...

it was Frank's body hanging from the rafters
he was wearing a white wedding dress
with makeup smeared all over his face
roaches ate his eyes and his arms
were coated with dry blood...
the toilet was filled with feces
the shower curtains were ripped
and the sink ran brown water
there was no note.....
but the body spoke for itself...

I wouldn't actually forgive you for what you have done
doesn't that sound pleasing?
because for me a thing forgiven is a thing forgotten...
and you wouldn't want me to forget you....
i am gracing you with the gift of memories of all the mishaps you created ...
killing a part of me
awarding you a path of misery to lay yourself to follow
after all we all want something to look down on our ruins
rememberance is the essence of not letting your wretched deeds go oblivious
in a very confined space in my head
there's a door and there you
happily dance with my rage and torment
and i tend to ring the bell of that door every moment
I won't be the one that i once used to be for you

Sin so sickening yet beckoning you closer,
Its twisted tendrils of temptation seeking your destructive desires,
Your purity is worthless and hidious, it seeks your submission to the sinister
Ferociously endeavoring its newest prisoner
Devouring your sanity, it enters your skin
Surrounded by blackness, you start chasing sin