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There is no end,
There is no peace.
I still leave my mind,
With the dead and deceaced.
Immortality is a hell,
Mortality's too short.
Which one would I pick?
I'm just not the sort.
Blood on my hands,
Bodies at my feet.
I invite Death in,
To take a seat.
I worship the sun,
I sing to the souls.
I praise to dead Goth,
Reality takes it's toll.
And when Life is over,
I think I know not.
For fate has placed me in hell,
and left me to rot.

Poem by trintheshedevil

Read more by trintheshedevil on http://trintheshedevil.deviantart.com/