Whispers from BelowA Poem by Tomislav PetricevicA man is disappointed in people who betrayed him, so he also becomes vunerable to evil influences...So weak you feel like giving up, There's no more blood in your white cup, 'till they were full they kept drinking, While your dry body continued sinking.
What's the use of fighting, you now ask? Speak no words, I'll hand you over this mask, And a silver dagger for your hands, sharp instead of blunt, Tread among the land, for it is the beginning of your hunt.
First night, you're still weak and insecure, But every kill makes you more and more sure, The blood on the floor contains forgotten verses of psalms, As their still beating heart sits in the crimsonness of your palms.
A loyal servant you have been, so go and kill some more, To my residence down below, you'll always have a door, Infernal flames do not care, for whose souls they embrace, Painful satisfaction they provide, with a quickening pace.
After weeks of doing my bidding, you begin to wonder, Is there a purpose of continuing, since you sent so many under? But before you can run away, before you can even yell, I pull you down alongside me, into the fiery depths of hell. © 2012 Tomislav PetricevicAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorTomislav PetricevicSlavonski Brod, Slavonija, CroatiaAboutCheck me out on YouTube (the drip real phresh doe huehue) more..Writing
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