red, scalding — angry flames;
devouring, relentless — cannot be tamed;
come see the circus in town;
any age, gender, it'll turn that frown.
come see the spectacle — pits of fire;
screams of pain, accompanied by lyre;
sick, twisted fate of desire;
call that man nothing but sire.
the devil laughs at pain;
your sins his wicked gain;
too late regret, pleas or prayer;
your life's a game — sadly, he's your master.
you see, Dante's book does not lie;
it's witnessed hell from low and high;
for this is true inferno;
spared not even Egypt's pharaohs.
— Anastacia
YOU ARE READING
ANASTACIA
PoetryA compilation of poems about love, reality and distorted fantasy. Thoughts to words - Touch to feelings - Sight to memories - All I can offer to you in writing. - Anastacia Cover belongs to its rightful owners.
