Why are the good taken, and We sinners left here?
What oblivion awaits that they are called rewarded?
I wonder if it is not some heaven or hell,
But simply the release from this tight empty shell,
A release from the trials We are on from birth.
I am not the man that I was born to be,
And certainly not My mother's son.
She had in her veins the salt of the sea,
But still produced a sorry wretch like Me.
I will pray that her gods will pardon her for this sin.
I defend nothing that I did in My life.
I was evil from the moment He came to Me in the dark.
I did nothing to fight Him off, I didn't run,
But folded easily to His will, like and obedient son.
Oh that I were born with the will to fight.
But here I stand, a murderer, a whore, a corpse.
I await My release, and pray that God will forgive My mother,
For she is the one who brought Me here,
She is the one who conceived and carried the fear,
That each victim I devoured experienced.
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I'm a pretty big ******** deal...
★ [/color:bfcbb85afe] ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ xxxxxxxxx[/color:bfcbb85afe]❥ [/size:bfcbb85afe][b:bfcbb85afe] I'm a Pretty BIG DEAL [/b:bfcbb85afe][/color:bfcbb85afe][/size:bfcbb85afe] ❤[/size:bfcbb85afe]
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User Comments: [1] [add]
Community Member
You're really good. I read your story "I Love You, Death" and I couldn't stop reading it till the end.
Please write more stories and poems. If possible can I read more? PWEES? whee