Blood On The Couch Poem by Aston Marley

It's not a crime to fight death with your revolver, this moment won't last longer; this is the right moment for me to use my device.

I can't tell you what's happening in heaven, but I can tell you how cold this world was to me. Blood thirsty vampires want to suck my soul dry, but the almighty never forsake the meek on a sabath day.

Eating dinner with fake friends, shaking hands with hypocrites; life only get better if you know your real enemy. Watching the agony show of life while walking through the epoch of illusions, this is blood for blood; but no one is ready to clean the blood on the couch.