LimboA Story by knighngaleJust read, honey, :D +------Miki(e)angeloLimbo I sit and cross my legs. I meditate. I lie. I'm in a pyramid. A pyramid is wrong. It enroots all evil. Dark'n. Meditation takes me to nosebleed, vomit, and horror. In meditation, the cocaroach is told to be left alone. Protect the cocaroach. It could be your best friend. Right. F**k (forget) the cocaroach. I step on it. It's not my friend. Trepidation holds my fear. Thee is a score of hounding voices in the shallow. Nothing is to forgive. The sardon of a jackel and a cadaver hinges a peak of pounds in my skull. The hammer and the rain. I'm alive, and the hammer and the nail. I fear for my soul. I've lost my soul. Aghhhhh! Aghhhh! Agghhhhhhhhhhh! A trickle of blood enough to engulf my shout. I cannot breath and I choke. Lord, hear my prayer. I close my eyes, and still I see. A pyramid holds what embraces the depths of hell. Hell is hell, Limbo is unatainable. Limbo holds horror, and Hell is fear. Limbo is anxiety. Hell is Gore, and Limbo is there too but cannot be seen. Its hidden but my ears and yours are destine too. If only I could sleep, asleep. Exhausted, I heep. There are so many who do me wrong. Yet, I just sleep. To only see their cause. My love is dead. I ask of him, for a rose, and bleed in my breath. I love him, but he is dead. Rose he gave, and the dead plague. Hell holds hoards. But Satan says, plague, I adore you, leave breath. Children come. A ha, Ah. Hells songs are so light. Gore and gore. I don't want. Satan and me, our Limbo. Yours truly, Hell, Limbo. © 2022 knighngaleFeatured Review
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1 Review Added on March 19, 2022 Last Updated on March 19, 2022 Tags: limbo, meditation, pyramid, home abode Authorknighngalenorth hollywood, CAAboutMaynard James Keenan Kick the Can Keenan. Knighngale. 1809 Black Plague December. Edgar Allen Poe. Hope you like my work. I write mostly horror. But sometimes I write Erotica, Children.. more..Writing
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