Devil Spawn Poem by Tyton Toste

Line'em up
Shoot'em down
Kill'em all, without a sound.


All the same
All the time
Slaughter and fun, gone intwine.

Sugar and spice
Plus nothing nice
Make me in a nutshell, i put up a fight.

Guns and fist
Too origenal for me
I like to make the bleed, and plea

Killing rampage this day
Fuel by venom and hate
Add the voices i hear, and seal my fate.

Not my fault
You started this yourself
Just put up with it, or watch yourself melt.

Into the day i go
This is my last
But if i must go, ill go badass.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

My knives are dulling
My ammo is near blank
But yet im still alive, with cash in the bank.

For some reason those voices are calling
Getting louder i can hear
This city is almost gone, my voices tell me not to fear.

They are only whispers
All from the dead
They tell me what to do, the others have fled.

Its not my choice
They controll my movment nad my kills
This is not my doing, this is not my wills.

Corpses littered
Buildings ignighted and burning
My hands drenched with the blood of my own and others, churning.

Sitting on a mound now
The voices are gone
What have i done? was i that strong?

This is nothing i was capable of myself
It must have been those whispers
My body is tainted, i need to dispose of it before the others whithers.

Tears drain from my eyes
Why me?
Am i really that much of a threat, to humanity?

Looking down at my gun
Two bullets left in the magazine
Just one will do, for my cursed splean.

Stand up and feel the guilt
Close my eyes and hope to be blind
Poke the barrel in my gut, and peek a bit to see the stock shine.

Im a wimp
I dont have the heart to save mothers
I cannot shoot myself, and save others.

'Get moving'
I hear in my head
I need to do it, i need to be dead.

Clench the trigger
Hear the explosion
Feel the pain, and the blood erosion.

I couldnt beleive it
Dieing was what i expected
But by my own hand, wasnt very of hectic.

'why, we needed you'
That voice grumbled again
My vision blurred and began to bend.

On my way travleing to hell
I spotted my voice
It was Satan himself, picked me by choice.