Hell's honey Pot

to know that life can be 

times of coming and going

 learning to wake up

and easy to roll out of bed

Unfortunate if still flowers to get lost in
pedals don't turn red as they fade and fall away by my age

a dream melting into darkness passing away from the sun.
in the depths of the sea maybe

but it ends six feet underground

and past the forest line of trees

the sun goes down

and one can't see

how the shadow of awakening

 to a new life leaves and all that's left is broken

in uncertainty of ever drawing a moral line.

To search ought after

new perverser things.

 and progress meant absolutely nothing.

till only strange and flesh what was after.

many make their way to hell

never welcomed. Never appreciate whats on most peoples menu.

in such a place you can see that the spirit is gone and whats left

is death.

if a chance to turn back

might know and learn to acknowledge whats best.

Or never know about a soul

 chasing after the lowest prospect of death.

in this hells pot.

the sounds of cries

or laughter from a child

are unfitting

in the imagination of an askewed mind

to the point of what made sense

now strange gives the word org a new meaning so demeaning as no longer the existance of ever having been one.

A Good thing it makes us sick

 because this certainly should not go with or without saying "this is pleasing".