The true heirs of pain
The offspring of grief
The children of devastation
Brought up in demolished joy
Only sorrow keeps them alive
Surviving by interminate torture
Only pain keeps them going
Accelerating all grievances
An instilled woe on greater good
If good were existent
Then their world would be abolished
Kept alive by the death of comfort
Killers of love they grow up to become
Fierce in their tentacled acts of evil
Their pure hatred knows no bounds
And their mission to hate all that is good
Purifies them in evil and devilish desires
Hell beckons them forth
Deep into the Dungeons of Tara
To the death of joy and hope
To the decimation of life
To the deviant landlords of hatred & grief
There they become: The Children Of Pain.
2012/09/02
YOU ARE READING
Something different...
PoesíaThey are dark, they call, they remind, they recall... Don't be fooled, they aren't your friends... Beware... You've been warned...
