Robert L. Bixler III
Comments about Robert L. Bixler III
Release the depths of hell in me
And raise furies for the world to see.
Scourned and burnt, blackhearted and alone;
Death's pugnate odor becomes my cologne.
Wraith born of pure hate,
In me, awake late.
Infernos to burn the insolate
Beyond what one can relate.