October 4th, 2016
Tonight, I'll pray by that she dies,
I'll pray over and over again.
I will be pleased with the Greater Power
if it helps commit my sin.
Every ounce of pain anyone's felt
must be inflicted by a ton.
I'm certain that this stranger's death
will be nothing to everyone.
This is not at all hatred,
for this is riddance if living trash.
'Tis not cruel to want a soul,
by death, reduced to ash.
She must suffer and beg for mercy,
conscious through the torture.
This woman must cease to be
and have no place in the future.
Thou shall be damned to purgatory.
Thou shall feel grief. Suffering. Misery.
May fear conquer thee
and bring forth harsh agony.
This poem is to be read aloud
every year and on this day.
If this woman is not yet dead,
then tonight, we shall pray.
I wrote this poem on my mother's birthday. I have no remorse for my actions.
YOU ARE READING
Reaper's Plague
PoesiaSince August 26th of 2015, I've been writing poetry. I was inspired by the song "One Reason" by Fade to write, and now I'm ready to publish. Follow me if you enjoy my poems, it'll let me know that you're reading them, I guess. WARNING: Poetry may be...
