by blossom666

I tired of your melancholy accursing

the page in a child’s rage,

the swinging pendulum of a

promiscuous prick teasing succubus,

swimming in the pits of

reality displaying sexuality.

Hands stained, morality

lost in translation begging for

any  Gods elation.

I tire of this game of condemnation,

send me home to the

flaming pits of my dark lord and

let him breathe fire into my soul,

fuck it create a vortex

let me be swallowed by

a giant black hole i’ll sign my

name across the skies in black kohl.

Burn me upon the

stakes in which I was born,

utter hate within

prayers for the devil,

my lord, he hears every

whisper anger is his

fucking transistor!

Butter wouldn’t melt oh but

you are the devils girl, you win,

you have ruined my world.

Karen Hayward ©2016