Drenched
in [blood],
I cross the room
I used to hear before the
(boom)

All was fine until I spoke,
choke...
choked
I run my hands
across my shirt,
still soaked

With
[blood]
I keep my pace.
I never turn to look around

I know what stains the ground
[blood]

My heart is still,
it doesn't
(beat)
my limbs numb

I smell the tar
the burning flesh... yum

Is it over?

My best friend in the poetry world is The Bloodshed Saint, she's really good. So I am trying to make her get one of these. I wrote this to her like 4 years ago, it's weird how you can know people so well but you've never met before.

As I promised
the sun
will always
shine on you
even in your
darkest hour.
For the sun and
you are now one
deity of purity
and peace.
The truth your
about
to reveal,
will blind the world.
Protecting us from the problems man has created.
Once again people will prosper
under your careful watch.

Oh yeah
I once saw a tomb
In some silver moonlit corner
Of a dark garden

A young girl had died in the year of our lord
1852

Scratching on stone walls
A terrible chill


A murderous mother  
Began to leave tear stained letters
On full moons

One blood red rose
And three long and painful letters
Each sealed with a wax seal
Signed in blood

They began to print the notes the next summer in the local paper
The heart breaking lines
Printed in smeared black ink
And sudennly the letters stopped

Story goes one night some kids were going out to the tomb
To try and catch her but ended up having ***
Well they go up to the tomb
And layin against the tomb was a beautiful black haired woman
In a pool of blood

But thats just legend
People still leave letters on moonlit nights on the tomb
Confession letters
Of ****** and ****
You name it...

The police leave them alone
......I myself visited that moonlit garden one night
and placed a letter in beneath a rose
I fear that I can't let it take over my life
It takes me from all love
Boiling hot water up to my eyes
and just like that...I never wanted another lover
but the maiden of ******

We're waiting for our death
Or maybe just a new beginning
The storm is haunting the horizon
Black clouds with lightning grinning.

The rumbling of the thunder
Is laughing at our fear
Or maybe it's my imagination
But the worst will soon appear.

They said for years
That when the storm arrives
Beasts will come from the dark
And we will run for our lives.

Some will die then
But most will die soon after
In the storm bouts of acid
And the thunders laughter.

But if you don't die then
It'll be from the flood
Drowning in your misery
Or trapped in the sludge mud.

And if you're still alive
You better have a boat
The beasts of the sea will eat you up
"Apocalyptic ******!" she wrote.

Her name was Sylvia
A mystical seer
From the before times
She told what she could hear.

The wind whispered to her
All these terrible things
Here they are before us now
And this is what she said they would bring.

So we're waiting for our death
We've all ready felt the plague
The storm is haunting the horizon
Until the end of our days.