#beelzebub
will the beast get me on my knees?
i'm good at this i aim to please
i'm pretty sure i know what i'm doin
******* with you n ya mind is screwin
**** the 666
thats the devil playing tricks
i can do tricks better myself
i can **** with mental health
beelzebub is no-one to me
i will spit him out a catastrophe
i got the devil givin me pleas
I'll take my time cos I'm at ease
old nick ain't got nothing on me
he got **** all a travesty
crank the furnace up to 11
otherwise i'm off to heaven
spewing **** and blood and fire
get working on my funeral pyre
(c) msrigs 03/10/2014
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 6:22 AM UTC
I am dead, rotting
the flies are buzzing
the smell
is unbearable
the maggot are hatching
eating my skin
pealing off my disguise
I am
The lord of the flies
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
What if
we
said no
to demons
we
already
know
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 10:58 AM UTC
Hearts rhythmically thumping
They have begun hunting
Splotches of green and brown
Defenders of their little "town"
Eyes become slivers in the night
They have no bark, but are all bite.
Mouths wide with Cheshire smiles
Minds swirling with and stabbing at random wiles
Stampeding through hills and over grass
Down to the ground searching for the scent of what was there last.
Coarse cloth draping off of the ****** sweating forms.
Hauling what deadweight "beasts" they can lift after their swarms
In their minds, a group mentality, they are yelling and chanting and screaming galore
But in the dead of night, only harmless creatures are ear-sores.
Slithering across the dirt
Will the night or the hunt end first?
Slivers dart across the hell-heated jungle
Salivating at the thought of flesh and the deliciously seductive struggle
But alas, the sky becomes a lightened hue
And the flesh, due to the morphing of slivers, narrowly escapes becoming barbeque.
Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 4:03 AM UTC