Dark Poem

DOOM

I stood there and watched them mourn their loved ones,
the remorse was pure and perfect art captured,
a warning to the generations to come.
The devil had his grip on me,
I had become a theatrical puppet of hell
anguishing agony deeming my soul lost.
The feverish condemnation tuned me dark
with soul cold as ice.

The endless pain I learnt to hold inside now a pivot of all my evil doing,
or maybe the path set to my redemption was a lost course meant to remind me there are no gods or so the evils that cover the earth are merely imaginations of our fear not to do the things that make us happy.
Am lost in the seaof no return where,
I bath in the blood of virgins to be accepted in the communities that I need no approval to being part of.

Hell has being a piece of art where all bad things are said to originate,
I find it hard to understand the logic behind good and bad,
where our actions determine how the world will see us.
The known religions fill us with FALSE information uplifting the heavens and downsizing hell,
then we are left to believe the existence of gods and devils.
Humans being, the mortals are said to have the power of choice,
but it ain’t a choice if it’s dictated to fit the purpose of those considered immortals.

We languish in the hands of those powerful,
gods and devils, angels and saints.
At the end I will be thrown to the sun for eternity or so my bones will.
I wish to die, to end my suffering but the immortals have yet to agree on my punishment.

I limbo among those trapped in the oblivion of endless darkness
and each day that passes, I find myself being the victim of necromancy bridge bringing the message of hope to the outcast,
death is coming and I will be riding on its waves, for the darkness brought about by my wickedness has no shame nor fear to destroy, crush and burn the souls of those who stand against its mighty chaotic ways of evil and punishment.
I will be seen
I will be heard
fighting for the evil ways of mankind.

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