Sunday, February 19, 2017


Sometimes in a dark place
I consider my life
And refuse to embrace
The negative zone
I live within
A pool of sin
Fetid fecund swamp
Filled to point of bursting
With my foul temper
My failed ardor
My empty thirst
I am the curse
More depraved
Than the orgies of Rome
I am my own destruction
No one will save me
Not in this life
Not for my soul
Or my flesh shell
Despite the cost
I make the reservations
I purchase my way
To travel to the lowest realms
Of hell inside
Listening to the many stories
I tell
To make myself feel nothing