Bound in chains, burdened from the slavery of sin, I sit alone in the darkness.
The darkness haunts my soul.
Eternal hell awaits my unknowing soul, trapped, no where to go. Every door I turn to is locked. A destiny of darkness awaits.
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Beyond the slithering ascending shadows of the barn rafters, divulged an ideal refuge for the constellation of endless webbing which barraged between each beam.
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When the Devil comes knocking, be polite or he will rip your deathless life out of your mouth,
damning your foul tongue to stone shattering all your teeth out of your head as they laugh at your torment on the cold dark sidewalk.
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There will be blood, when the world decides it no longer needs our heroes.who are we to decide when we choose how to suffer from our deviations?
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We were poets once, when the world chose to listen to our voices and the heavens parted ways with the wind.
From every ink blotched penned stroke accompanied almost always with a melody from angelic hearts.
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This is a bizarre story about a man I once called my friend, let me take you back a few years and really get this story going. Trust me, you'll want to hear this.
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by Micah Krahn
Embodied in a vast blue elegant vested cloak, his tuxedo of many colours defines his beauty.
His splendor is something to behold. Strutting humbly alternately scouring the ground for earthy
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At the end of the lane was a house we always stayed away from, I'm sure it was a elegant house in its time
but it had fallen to disrepair and had been the neighborhood's eyesore for decades, as the generations grew up
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In a time where trees could talk to each other, where the post apocalyptic world employed their occupation on more pressing matters and threats than atmospheric debris and toxic gasses which were deadly to the human race but showed no more than
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