Cold. Scared. Dead.
Cold.
I live a life where it's every man for himself.
Every man goes to hell. People swear upon wealth,
causing hazards to our health. We scream in our cells,
crying louder then ringing bells.
Here I go again, looking for a friend.
The rest are liers, backstabbers, betrayers.
Shit sayers, killing off my desires. My praires, who cares.
I swear, life is feeble amongst the people.
Touch that golden needle now fall asleep.
Deep to rest at your best as the hole grows deeper.
The reaper reaps and the spiders creep,
up and down the spines of a million freaks.
Our lives are pointless untill we meet our goals.
Untill then, we all sleep amongst the cold.
Scared.
It's dark in here, nothing I see is clear
I fear that I may be drinking my own tears
My own sweat, drinking away my own pears
Eating the skin that holds me together
Wheather I like it or not,
I'm blind in this hole, there are no doors
I'm hidden from the world, hidden from the war
No bombs or bullets can reach my here
Yet I'm alone, thats my biggest fear
it's killing off my desires. My praires, who cares
I'm going to die down here, so yes, I'm scared.
Dead.
Few spiders from before are eating at my corpse
With a itchy force that can't be scortched
Fire ants leave me torched, dead of course
Fly's land on me, only to be devoured by those spiders
Heaven rejects me back to the unlimited darkness
Heartless humen's leave me to start this
A poem left by anti-jesus. A poem to warn earth
That they can't get past the gates untill their rebirth
My skin is new, my screams are higher pitched
My blood is thinner and my body is less intent
The voices are clear, but mine is left unsaid
I can only cry and giggle, yet I thought I was dead.?
The End.
